An Oreo Crust Crumbling
by Felicity Dream
Summary: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos and shops periodically for it. Cue Harry, who's in hiding. She hadn't expected this persistent man and he hadn't expected to get so neurotic about her. Hence, a criminal like him pursuing a witch like her, when he's knee deep into criminal matters and she's attempting laying low. And to think -it all started over Oreos. Fem!Harry/Snarky!James.
1. 0-1 Glimpse

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on. 

**An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter One: Glimpse_

James Wesley was a man of expensive taste. Expensive but _good_ taste. That's why it would be an odd scene to see him in a Walmart. But…he had a horrible weakness for Oreos.

It was while he had grabbed a pack of Oreos that he caught sight of a small family shopping. A boy the size of a small whale, a horse-like woman, and –barely seen –was a petite teenager with the most beautiful green eyes he'd ever seen.

She was rather scrawny herself, but her skin was impressively ivory-colored and almost giving off the impression of being flawless. She had hair that was the shade of raven black and put into a messy bun. Her face was kind of adorable and shaped delicately, almost giving her a fragile look.

His sharp eyes had locked onto her, and she would be memorized and categorized into his head long after his first glimpse of her.

Started 5/9/15 – Started 5/9/15

 **A/n: I needed to write fluff. I've been writing too much serious stuff. But fluff with Wesley? Yeeaahh, I know. As for why genderbending? 'Cause they're fun and I'm obsessed with them, as my usual readers would know XD If anyone has prompts (something specific, just single words, songs, etc.), send them my way! And please review!**


	2. 0-2 Meet and Greet

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Two: Meet and Greet_

Wesley admitted he'd taken to visiting Walmart a lot more, hoping to see _her_. No such luck for the past two days, but the third he got lucky.

She appeared again, alone this time, and seemed to be shopping. She had a grocery list and had on a serious look on her face as she looked back between it and the shelves.

Feeling a small smile cross his face, Wesley crossed the distance and stopped right next to her.

"I don't suppose you might need some help?"

She was startled, he could see. She was looking at him warily now. Still, he wasn't fazed. He held out his hand and kept smiling, trying to keep an air of friendliness up.

"James Wesley, pleased to meet you," he introduced himself.

"Harry Potter," she warily introduced herself.

"I'm sorry for just coming out of nowhere," Wesley apologized, though he was still very delighted at having caught her and finally meeting her. "I saw you the other day, though you were shopping with your family. I wanted to talk to you."

"Why?" she asked shortly.

Ah. He was probably coming on too strong.

He held up the new pack of Oreos. "I was wondering if you like Oreos?"

Harry stared at him bemusedly.

Started 5/10/15 – Completed 5/10/15

 **A/n: This is absurdly fun. Also, crazy that people like this, enough that even one person reviewed, much less four. And then the number of alerts and favs…Wow! It's odd to be writing less, but drabbles and vignettes are weird like that XD Anyway, feel free to suggest prompts and check out my account (link on profile)! And please review!**


	3. 0-3 Records

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Three: Records_

When Wesley attempted to look her up, he hadn't expected the level of…difficulty it would be to obtain anything on her.

Harry, short for "Henrietta," Potter. Born an English citizen, and currently fifteen years old. Sixteen in a month, when July 31st comes around. Her school records after age eleven were nonexistent, and he didn't find any records of her being enrolled in any high school. She had nothing on her medically.

She was like a ghost.

It made Wesley even more intrigued in her.

Started 5/10/15 – Completed 5/10/15

 **A/n: Urgh, I'm sorry it's taking me so long (especially for such short stuff). I handwrite these things and the program I use doesn't have handwriting recognition support, so I have to type it up after. But I'm updating this twice at least, to make up for it! So please continue to support and review!**

 **Again, sorry these are so short (but drabbles and vignettes!), but I'm glad that everyone is enjoying these two (and together) and this story. Also thanks to the Guest review that offered the first prompt! I LOVE that idea with Wesley and Fisk, and even if it is probably later on, I'll definitely use it**!


	4. 0-4 Ledge

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Four: Ledge_

Their first meeting had been somewhat strained.

However, he persevered, especially since he'd gotten plenty of opportunities to get her to speak and get her to know him. She was, after all, charged with the daily grocery shopping, and was stuck going to the local Walmart to shop for the family's needs.

After the initial wariness, he'd gotten to wear her down to the point where she was beginning to reply back to him, and had come to the conclusion (finally) that for some reason he really did want to just talk to her and be around her. She had yet to initiate anything, even questions of her own, but he was sure he was getting close to slipping through her walls.

Currently, they were on a ledge of a small concrete wall border, about a block away from the Walmart they always met at, and were sharing his newest pack of Oreos.

He handed her another one, and she took it while glancing at him and giving him an unreadable look.

"You really like these, don't you?"

Surprised, but very pleased that she was the one to initiate the conversation between them, Wesley was thrown for a loop even as he kept a polite smile and look on his face.

"Yes, I quite do," he admitted.

Astonishingly, her lips quirked up.

"Yeah, they're good…but you should try treacle tart. They're fantastic."

The implication that she would be around him (if he was reading that correctly) made him give a full grin.

Started 5/10/15 – Completed 5/10/15


	5. 0-5 Clothes

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Five: Clothes_

He'd noticed. He'd have to be blind not to have had. She wore raggedy clothes, always way too big on her. Even with his glasses, they would not have distorted his vision that badly to have misconstrued his vision of her clothing.

"They're my cousin's," Harry said, noticing where he was looking.

Wesley wrinkled his nose. "Your _cousin's_?"

She shrugged. "Yeah. They're Dudley's old clothes."

Well that explained everything. Of course her clothes would nowhere near fit her, given her cousin's obese size. They were old as well. As ill-fitting, worn, and boyish as they were, he wondered why she wore them. Or why her aunt and uncle, as she told him she lived with them (and her minimal records showed), hadn't bought her something newer and more appropriate. They weren't poor or struggling. He knew their financial situation, and they weren't hurting for money. They and their son were well-dressed, if in bad taste.

He frowned to himself, but didn't push her.

* * *

Wesley met with Melvin Potter, amused the tailor shared a surname with Harry.

"A new suit, sir?" Melvin asked respectfully, his nervous stutter not around. Wesley tended to not make him nervous thankfully.

"No," Wesley slipped a piece of paper towards the man. "I need a personal favor, Mr. Potter."

Melvin took the slip and looked at what were measurements. If he judged them accurately, female measurements to be exact.

"If you could, I would like to have several summer dresses in these measurements," Wesley requested. "Preferably by this Saturday."

"Not a problem, sir," Melvin didn't even blink, even though Saturday was three days away. "Any preference for colors?"

Wesley hummed in thought. "Green. Shades of green. It'll bring out her eyes. And white. She's a pure sort," he added in.

When he received at least seven dresses, all rather pretty, he was pleased with the results. He should tip Melvin exceptionally well and with a bonus. He had been way passed early and before the deadline, and crafted the dresses with obvious care and taste. Wesley was pleased and hoped Harry would be as well.

When Wesley met with Harry again, he presented the set of dresses to her. She gave him a look.

"You didn't have to buy me anything," she said mulishly.

"If it helps, I didn't spend even a penny on them," Wesley said smugly, complete with a smug smile.

Harry looked at him questioningly.

"I have a tailor friend who agreed to my requests to making some summer dresses," he revealed.

She sighed, but accepted that. "They _are_ pretty," she said agreeably, conceding.

He considered it a victory, considering he knew by now how stubborn she was.

Wesley gave a polite smile that she gave an irritated look to.

"I'll let him know you like them."

"You're such a smug bastard, you know that?" she grumbled.

He just laughed at her.

Started 5/11/15 – Completed 5/11/15

 **A/n: For Wesley's age, I see him around 31 to 32 years of age. Dunno, just do (shrugs). Anyway…Prompts are really welcome! For real, so if you've got something, even a random word or food, bring it on. And please continue to support and review this fic!**


	6. 0-6 Milk

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Six: Milk_

Harry eyed him in amusement. He raised an eyebrow, but she just kept grinning.

"Can I ask what amuses you?" he asked sarcastically, his drink in his glass.

"Who eats Oreos with alcohol?" she asked, snickering slightly.

"I do, apparently," he deadpanned. "And this is premium wine. Vintage really."

"It's _Oreos_ ," she reiterated, rolling her eyes. "You at least drink _milk_ with them."

Harry held up her bottle of milk, before reaching for the glass she was borrowing from the suburban limo and dunking an Oreo into the milk.

His lips twitched.

"I'll take your word for it."

Perhaps next time he would drink milk.

Started 5/12/15 – Completed 5/12/15

 **A/n: Hey, guys! I really appreciate the prompts (especially because I'm running out of the prewrote ones I made up XD)! I certainly can't wait to get on those.**

 **Anon reviews:**

1\. Guest: Thank you! And I'm guessing the first 'Loved' is a prompt? If not, I'll still take it XD


	7. 0-7 Profession

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Seven: Profession_

"Are you a businessman?"

The question caught him of guard. Not that he hadn't expect it to be coming, just that he hadn't thought it would come up right then.

"Not…really."

Wesley paused and gave thought to his answer.

Did he really want to bring her into his world?

He looked at Harry, seeing her patiently waiting for him to continue, while wearing an inquisitive look. She really is adorable…

No, he was sure he didn't. Harry was much too kind and sweet to be brought into the dirty world he was used to. He wanted to keep her as far away from it as he could.

"You could say I'm…a personal assistant of sorts," he angled for. "I handle a lot of things."

"Sounds kind of boring," Harry teased him.

"You'd be surprised how it isn't," he said dryly.

And the topic closed for then. He just had a feeling it wasn't the last of that.

Started 5/12/15 – Completed 5/12/15

 **A/n: Thank you to everyone who reviewed and especially to those who gave prompts! I'll definitely be using them :D And I hope everyone enjoyed this, and looking forward to Fisk popping up (this little tidbit is basically begging for it ;p haha). Please continue to support and review (and give prompts if you'd like!) this fic!**


	8. 0-8 Tutor

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Eight: Tutor_

It wasn't hard to find where she lived. It had been in her dismal records. He'd managed to get it noticed that the Dursley household had one more occupant, one who currently wasn't but should be attending school.

So now Harry was attending high school (and their Oreo time had changed to after).

She didn't seem as pleased as he'd hoped she'd be.

Yes, normal teens these days hated the thought of schooling, but he'd noticed she genuinely enjoyed learning things from him. And the one time he'd idly mentioned school, she'd been wistful.

"I didn't understand a thing," she said quietly to him after the first day, averting her eyes and dunking her Oreo into her milk with a depressing plunk.

He frowned and was about to speak up, when she continued.

"I haven't had…proper schooling since I was 11," Harry admitted, surprising him. She was looking embarrassed and ashamed about all this. "Maybe I should just drop out."

"I'll tutor you," he cut in severely. "I know you are more than capable of catching up and learning all of it."

Though she still looked unsure, she reluctantly conceded.

* * *

Wesley decided that tutoring her during their "Oreo time" wouldn't be enough. So how to get more time with her, with his schedule and her new school hours?

Well, it was why he was outside the house of the Dursley family, plaster on a smile and pretending like he wasn't disgusted with the people within.

And afterwards, it had been disgustingly easy to claim he was a tutor and had been assigned to Harry to help her catch up (and that it was probably best that he take her after school and get straight into it). He hadn't needed to show any proof, nor had they questioned his intent on taking their niece by himself and to be alone with her with an undetermined amount of time. They hadn't asked or brought up a curfew. They hadn't even seemed to care at all.

It –she – was an inconvenience.

He had to take a deep breath and barely refrained from pulling out the gun he had concealed on him.

* * *

When he pulled into the front of the school and got out of his car to lean against it, he knew Harry was going to ask what was going on and what the hell was he doing? It would be common sense for her to ask about him suddenly appearing at her school, even if it was at the end of it. Then again, he wouldn't blame her if she just got so used to his strange appearances and seemingly random or odd actions. She had, by now, gotten used to his stubbornness, which was nearly as bad as hers.

Ignoring the stares and whispers of some of the students already outside, he zeroed in on Harry as she got out of school and easily caught sight of him, heading over after. He noted the ratty backpack she carried over one shoulder, but kept his irritation to himself.

"Do I want to know what you're doing here?" she asked with a roll of her eyes.

He smirked. "I'm your tutor after all. Time for a tutoring session, guardians' permission already obtained."

It was always fun to put a confused look on her face.

Started 5/13/15 – Completed 5/13/15

 **A/n: So I was wondering –I'm almost done with my original set of drabbles. If everyone would like, I could see this original set as more or less like an introductory arc and a bit like a "mini-series" or an OVA, and then start to write full, longer regular chapters from then on. I would like to see as many people's opinions on this as possible so please speak up! I also hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!**


	9. 0-9 Ride

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Nine: Ride_

Wesley remembered a time when Harry was still wary of him and it was actually their second meeting. He had caught sight of her walking from Walmart to head back home (he presumed). He knew her address and that her home was rather far away, so he didn't know why she was made to walk to and from her home and the store, and with groceries no less.

So he'd driven up to her, purposely forgetting that he'd just seen and talked with her in the store not too long ago, and rolled down his window.

"Do you need a ride?" he called out, stopping her.

She looked hesitant, but he didn't blame her. This was their second meeting and he was a stranger. A dangerous one as well, but she had no need to know that.

He reached over and opened the door on her side, putting a polite smile on his face. Wesley could be professional about this, even though he had a personal interest in her. He was good at being professional. It was what he did.

Wesley took care of things. And he'd take care of her.

"Yeah, okay," she muttered and slipped into the car.

He started to drive again and let her give him directions, despite the fact he already knew where she lived. Not that that was another thing she had needed to know. However, seeing him following directions and going where she wanted made her relax and not think the worse.

"Open that compartment, will you?" he pointed to the glove compartment. She did as he asked, snorting as she saw the new pack of Oreos he'd bought earlier with her.

Without further instructions or him needing to ask, Harry opened it and gave him one.

"You can have one if you want," at her hesitant look, he smirked. "Aside from the fact I just bought them and you were there when I did, it would be such a waste to poison you. I really wouldn't."

He had no problem setting up such a thing, but he wouldn't with her.

She took one finally, and he didn't hold back on his smug look.

"You're such a smug bastard," Harry grumbled.

He merely kept smirking, and thought it ironic they were sharing a pack of Oreos on their second meeting, when their first meeting ended with him asking if she liked them.

And that was how their daily meetings began.

Started 5/14/15 – Completed 5/14/15

 **A/n: Whoo, boy! Like everyone so far has said they want a full story, so one more drabble chapter after this and I'll update this story with a full-fledged chapter! Thank you guys for responding and letting me know your thoughts! I'm so ecstatic that so many are enthusiastic at the prospect at a full story, so I can't wait to crank that starting chapter soon!**


	10. 0-10 Inevitable

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Ten: Inevitable_

Perhaps it was inevitable that this was to happen, but Wesley had been hoping to at least postpone it for a time much more later than then.

But as Wilson Fisk, his friend and employer, looked at him in confusion and holding a fabric from one of the summer dresses he'd had made for Harry, Wesley's mind was working on overtime in order to find something to say.

It wasn't like he could tell Wilson something like "I might have gained a neurosis around a teenager about half my age," especially since –to be honest –that would actually be the first time he admitted having a neurosis around Harry in the first place. He'd spent most of his time with her in denial about it, but he'd also tried to not be as evident with his stalkerish tendencies as possible, or note them as stalkerish to himself.

"Wesley, I'd found out from Melvin that you'd commissioned and had him make a set of summer dresses? Was there any particular reason as to why?"

Wesley almost made a snarky comment, then realized this was Wilson and he didn't use snark against the man. He almost wished Leland was there because that old bastard was one of his favorite targets.

"…I met someone."

Wilson waited on him, still watching him carefully.

"I thought she needed some new clothes."

Wilson almost looked exasperated with him and his short, vague answers. "Honestly, Wesley. Besides, isn't it something women consider rude if you say they need new clothes?"

Wesley was almost sulking and tempted to ask if he had to research that, but kept it back.

"I didn't tell her that," Wesley wasn't trying to be obtuse at least. It was just coming out that way. "I just…gave her the new dresses. It was a gift."

The circumstances were special and Harry was a mature lady that had understood his mindset.

But Wilson was still staring at him and waiting. So Wesley sighed.

"Would you like to meet her?"

Started 9/22/15 – Completed 9/22/15

 **A/n: Last drabble! Next one should start as full chapter! Who's excited? And I bet y'all were hoping for Harry and Fisk to meet in here :D I was going to put that in…but then I was like nah. I'll wait. (Ducks tomatoes and rotten fruit thrown at her) Anyway, I hoped everyone liked this teasing little bit, and please review!**

* * *

 **Anon reviews:**

1\. Guest: Thank you and I will!


	11. A Female's Perspective

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Eleven: A Female's Perspective_

He was probably the weirdest man she'd ever met (minus Albus Dumbledore, but she didn't think anyone could beat him in that).

She remembered catching sight of him the day she and the Dursleys first started shopping at that Walmart, on the day after they'd moved to America through Vernon's job promotion. He'd been holding a bag of Oreos and she had been having the feeling that somebody had been staring at her. Though at the moment he'd been looking elsewhere, she couldn't help but feel that it was him that had been staring.

But then they left and she put him out of her mind, right up until she ran into him on the day she had to go shopping alone for the first time.

She didn't know if it was an American thing, but she wasn't sure it was normal to just go and approach a stranger so candidly. He'd asked if she needed help, and all she knew was that maybe this was one of those "stranger danger" moments she remembered hearing Petunia lecture Dudley about back when they'd been kids.

And then he'd admitted he had seen her the other day and had wanted to talk to her, and then she was thinking that this was more a "Death Eater in Disguise" moment, trying to lull her into a false sense of safety.

That was right until he'd followed up and asked her if she liked Oreos, and all she could do was stare at him.

She really couldn't figure out James Wesley at all.

Honestly, she thought that was it and then they separated ways after buying their respective things. But then he offered her a ride that she reluctantly accepted, and she inwardly had the feeling that she was going to be seeing this man frequently and that he would become very involved in her life from then on.

She was right about that, and somehow there wasn't a Harry Potter without a James Wesley on most days.

They met every day since, and he always had Oreos around. Wesley had worn her down, right up until Harry began to allow herself to reply back, and realized he strangely just wanted to talk and be around her.

And then she finally said something first to him and he was grinning, and she didn't think she'd ever seen someone so handsome.

Harry thought she might've been a bit mad at that point.

She absolutely knew that she couldn't figure him out. Bloody hell, she knew he was dangerous. Even as polite and kind as he made himself out to be (and she knew he sincerely was to her), she innately knew and could feel he was a dangerous person.

He wore suits frequently, which made Harry think he was a businessman. He said he wasn't really and she believed him, even when he said he was a personal assistant. She just couldn't figure why she thought there was more to it than that.

Then she found herself going to high school all of a sudden. It was kind of strange and unexpected, but part of her was excited. Well, until she attended the first day and felt rather stupid since she didn't get anything at all. Having been gone from regular schooling so long, it was hard to understand anything.

But then she had Wesley and he promised to tutor her and things started becoming easier for her, and she was slowly starting to get it. Even if the Dursleys hadn't cared that some stranger was picking her up and taking care of her, she'd learned to stop caring about them a long time ago.

Now it was a Saturday away from her birthday, a few days away for her to turn 16, and she was currently about to contact her best friends. Taking the magic mirror Sirius had given her last year (at this, her hands clenched around the mirror briefly), she said Hermione's name and both her and Ron appeared.

Hermione Granger, if anything, was prompt and even if Ron Weasley wasn't, she'd make sure the other was.

"How are you?" she asked Harry anxiously. "How is wherever you are?"

"S'alright," Harry shrugged, stretching. "A bit loud and crowded. I'm going to school now actually."

Hermione's face grew excited and curious, while Ron butted in from behind, looking incredulous at her.

"You mad, mate? Why would you go to school when you're basically hiding out and can do what you want?" Ron exclaimed.

Annoyed, Hermione elbowed him away. "Never mind him, Harry. That's so exciting! What's that like? It must be so strange to go back to schooling after learning just magical subjects for so long!"

Harry gave her brainy friend an awkward grin, not as enthused as she about it all. She liked school well enough (and learning), but Hermione did tend to take it overboard...

"What is it that you're doing?" Ron interrupted, which Harry was thankful for since she wouldn't be sure what to say about Muggle schooling. She inwardly promised that next time she'd tell Hermione all about it.

"Yoga," Harry replied easily. "Dudley still needs to be exercising 'cause of his weight, so Aunt Petunia has him learning and taking classes. He hates it and Uncle Vernon thinks it's for 'sissies,' but I've been paying attention and trying it out myself. It's not bad and when I get bored shut up around here, I end up doing it. Kind of relaxing actually."

"It really is," Hermione beamed at her. "I tried it out last summer. It's actually really hard and you need to be flexible for a lot of it, so I couldn't quite get into it myself. But you've always been rather athletic and limber, Harry."

Harry nodded absentmindedly, her eyes suddenly catching sight of the new backpack Wesley had insisted on giving her. He really was a bit much sometimes...

Hermione noticed the fond smile growing on Harry's lips and wondered about it. However, she had another question on her mind that she was focused on.

"Hey, Harry," she brought the other girl's attention back to her. When Harry's emerald eyes sharpened into focus on her, Hermione voiced the question that she had been dying to ask since Harry had talked about him last time they'd talked.

"You know that man you mentioned before? The one you talked about meeting at that store."

"What about him?" Harry tilted her head curiously.

Hermione bit her lip and even Ron was looking at her curiously too.

"Have you talked to him again? Is he suspicious, you think? Why'd he approach you?" Hermione blurted out rapidly.

Thankfully, Harry had become used to her friend's habit of speaking a lot at once over the years.

"Yeah, I have," Harry hedged. "He's alright. Suspicious, I suppose. But not in the way you're thinking of. Dangerous for sure, even if I can't prove it. Not a threat towards me though," she reassured them. "I mean, he's even tutoring me for school, you know? To be honest, 'Mione, I can kind of get the feeling he's the one who _got_ me into school in the first place. Er, well...It's not like he's done much other than that, except invite me to have Oreos with him."

At that, her friends looked incredulously at her, though Ron also looked slightly confused at the mention of a cookie he didn't know.

Harry's cheeks pinked a little. "So as to why he approached me...it might be all in my head...but I kind of think he likes me? I dunno. That's the feeling I've been getting recently, once I actually got around to thinking about it."

Truthfully, she hadn't been able to figure out why he wanted to be around and see her. It bothered her all the time. She also didn't think she could just outright ask him about it, though she had the feeling he'd probably give her a truthful answer if she did. He seemed the type to be frank, if he wasn't doling out sarcasm and his usual snark.

She knew he wanted to talk and be around her alright, but the why was eluding her. So she ended up reluctantly asking around school and got nearly the same answer –whoever it was liked her.

It was kind of bizarre –the whole asking around school (and the type of school it was) and the thought of Wesley liking her like that. It hadn't crossed her mind until then, but she could see now how it might look that way.

Hermione tittered, looking both amused and smug somehow (it reminded her of Wesley actually, which made her think that she thought on him too much these days).

"The moment you had to find a guy for you finally, and it had to be a strange one, didn't it?" Hermione shook her head. She started ticking it off on her hand. "Older man, dangerous apparently, Oreo-obsessed...should I go on?"

Harry glowered at her, making a face. "Oh shush, you."

Ron cut in, the poor guy looking incredibly put out. "Wait, wait –you're not actually dating this guy, are you? 'Cause I don't approve of this bloke, mate. Sounds a bit more than suspicious to me. And he's too old! And weird. And...and..."

"Don't be so overprotective," Harry rolled her eyes. "One, he really isn't all that bad. Two, we are _not_ dating, thank you very much, Ronald Weasley!"

Ron's ears reddened a little, but he still refused to give over.

"But you don't know the guy," he muttered. "He could be some type of creep for all you know..."

Hermione elbowed him slightly, so he reluctantly quieted. Harry huffed in fond exasperation.

There was a yell in the background and Ron grimaced.

"Mum's calling for lunch. Guess we'll have to talk to you next time, Harry," Ron told her apologetically.

"Same time next week?" Hermione asked, hoping they could keep a more normal and consistent form of contact with each other, now that Harry had finally settled in.

"I've been here close to a month," Harry shrugged. "I think I'm as safe and anonymous around here as can be."

"Minus Oreo Stalker," Ron grumbled.

Both females ignored him.

"We'll talk again then," Hermione smiled a bit sadly. "We miss you lots. Don't get into too much trouble!"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry said cheekily.

Ron snorted. "Fat chance of that. See you, Harry!"

Harry closed the connection on her mirror and stared at it, watching her reflection.

Once again, the elephant in the room had been avoided.

Then again, even Harry wasn't sure if she wanted to talk to anyone about Sirius' death. It was just something she'd prefer to pretend hadn't happened.

Glancing at the time, she realized that it was time to go meet Wesley outside the house (because she really had no doubt he was already waiting for her on their agreed time). Standing quickly and snatching her bag off of the floor, she hurried out of her room and down the stairs, ignoring the Dursleys as she passed them in the living room and headed out the front door. As she expected, Wesley was already waiting for her in front of his car, leaning against it casually.

He looked...alarmingly anxious.

"So...do you want to meet my boss?" he said out of nowhere.

Harry stared at him.

 _Why_ did he insist on randomly saying things like that all of a sudden to her?

"Er...I suppose?" she answered unsurely, sounding more like she was asking a question.

Never mind that. What could she help if he just made her too damn confused sometimes that she ended up agreeing?

She wondered if this was how her mother felt with her James.

Started 10/21/15 – Completed 10/22/15

 **A/n: Sorry this took a bit, but I had to focus on a few other stories for some contests. I hope everyone enjoyed this and finally Harry's POV! I've also made a cover for this and put in a new summary, so I hope people like those as well. Please review?**

* * *

 **Anon Reviews:**

Guest: Thanks! I hope you continue to read!


	12. A Momentous Meeting

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Twelve: A Momentous Meeting_

"Can I ask what brought this on?" Harry asked as she observed his tense posture and the fact that he was focusing on the road and so hadn't looked at her since he'd helped her into his car.

He abruptly pulled over and braked, parking the car as he turned to her finally. The seriousness on his face made her wary, and her eyes catalogued every detail she was seeing. He was _very_ tense, but also naturally poised to strike. It reminded her again that he was a very dangerous man, even if he had not personally been so towards her or shown any indication of such.

What then was the cause?

Remembering the fact that he'd asked if she wanted to meet his boss, she brought that into consideration and saw the connection that his behavior had become this way when his boss had been brought up. Who was his boss then, and why did it make Wesley wary of letting her meet him and yet also still have her meet him nonetheless?

"Wesley," she started sharply. "Either you say what's happening right now and be as blunt as the usual bugger that you are, or else I'm going to tell you to bugger off and I'm getting out of the car and walking off."

That made him wince and he had to open his mouth several times before he finally answered her.

He looked at her gravely. "I have not been entirely honest with you, Harry. I know I said I was his personal assistant, and in a way I am. However, he is…and the business we do…"

"Is shady," she interrupted, coming to the conclusion. "Listen, as much as you try to hide it, I get really dangerous vibes off of you. When it comes to danger, I'm not bloody oblivious. I've been in danger one too many times not to get a sense of it when it's near me." At that, he looked askance and rather worried, but it wasn't like there was much he could do about that. After all, her life was one big mess and a warzone. There was no getting out of it. "Just be honest with me about the basic. You don't have to give me details. I get that it's none of my business, and I should smother my hero/savior complex."

Reluctantly, his face became grim. "This city is a plague. It's a horrible place, especially Hell's Kitchen, and honestly I don't believe worth saving or even salvaging in anyway. But my boss believes otherwise and I have done my best to stick to his side and help him achieve his dream. Unfortunately, that means even to resorting to unsavory means and having connections to distasteful people."

"Ever thought of doing that the hard, lawful, good way?" she asked wryly.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Crime runs rampant through this city. There is no good and lawful way, as crime becomes replicated and too much to control. So instead, you make crime bend to _you_ and henceforth have control over crime."

Harry stared at him. It was…logical, but pessimistic and aggressive. He started to look aggrieved.

"I've upset you. I'm sorry. I've tried to keep my business and my cynicism outside of our interactions, and I hadn't meant to bring either into it now –"

Harry just sighed and grabbed his pack of Oreos from the side and stuffed an Oreo into his mouth.

"Just drive, Wesley. Let's go meet your boss. I'll make up my mind when I meet him." _'Maybe she'd even figure out and think of ways to do her own part in the war effort…'_

He gave her one last long look, before he put the car back into drive and started to head back in the direction of his home. She'd been there a few times already, that she was strangely used to heading there and even knew the way by heart.

"We live in the same high-rise," he told her. "He's a floor above me, so it's easier to reach each other, especially in the case of important business matters."

She gave a nonchalant hm, but she was growing warier the closer they got to his building. When he drove into the parking and parked in his assigned slot, they sat there together for a moment.

"Is he a dangerous person like you?" she asked him suddenly.

"…Yes," he said quietly, still rather disturbed that she had instinctively knew about him somehow. "More so, I'd say. But I won't let you get hurt."

The knowledge she could get hurt by the man made her even more worried, but then again while she wasn't all that thrilled about it, she wasn't exactly as bothered about it as a normal person should be. Considering her numerous occasions being in danger and the people she considered actually terrifying (she wasn't sure anyone could beat Voldemort either), she was rather lax with her safety and not as afraid as she was supposed to be. It was nice that Wesley offered his protection though. She would have probably told him it wasn't needed, but he probably needed the assurance.

"Above all, I believe that Wilson is a good man," Wesley told her honestly. "He has a temper to be worried about, really worried about, but he means well. Normally, aside from his temper, he wouldn't hurt a fly."

Harry gave a brief smile to reassure him. If he wanted to see someone with a temper problem, she would have almost offered to show him Voldemort in one of his temper tantrums. His followers and she were almost always in agreeance that it wasn't fun times.

He got out of the car and got to her side in time to help her out of the car, and then led her the way to the inside, where they found the elevators. Instead of going to their usual floor, which held Wesley's studio apartment, they went a floor above that to which the elevators opened to an entire floor loft that she assumed belonged to Wesley's boss.

"Wilson, I brought that," he gave a quick embarrassed look to her that she returned in amusement, "friend of mind I told you about."

"You talked about me?" she muttered to him teasingly.

He gave her a small smirk, even with the slight tint of red on his cheeks. "I had no choice. Wilson found one of the fabrics used for the summer dresses I had made for you, and asked me about them. Speaking of which, are you ever going to wear any of them?"

Harry grimaced. "I'm unused to really wearing dresses…They're pretty enough, but…I feel like I'd ruin them easily."

Wesley frowned. "Nonsense –"

"I apologize for the wait," she heard a man's voice say, and she quickly pinpointed the direction and saw a huge man walk into view.

She could see how he could be intimidating through his size alone. His physical presence was obviously formidable and would scare even Vernon, though Hagrid was obviously much bigger than this man who was Wesley's boss. Still, there was a natural awkwardness that somehow surrounded him too.

"Wilson, this is my…friend," Wesley hesitantly introduced. "Harry, this is Wilson Fisk, my employer and friend as well."

Undeterred, Harry stuck her hand out. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Fisk. I'm Harry Potter."

Looking quite taken aback, Fisk slowly slid his hand into her much more petite one and shook it.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Potter. I am Wilson Fisk."

Wesley couldn't help letting out a sigh of relief.

* * *

Wilson wasn't sure what he'd expected when meeting the girl he'd been told was Wesley's new…friend. He hadn't even known Wesley was seeing someone, even in a sort of platonic matter –though he was sure this wasn't really platonic either, but it also was clearly not consummated in any way. Wesley was not the type to go out and see someone either, though occasionally his meticulous friend entertained a few women here and there. They were barely present in any case; just one night stands that he never cared to learn about or meet, especially when Wesley hardly bothered to learn their names.

But then there was this Harry Wesley had been reluctant to tell him about, and he'd been shocked and intrigued.

However, he hadn't realized how _young_ she'd be. Glancing at the nervous Wesley, he really would have appreciated the heads up on that fact before the meeting with her. However, she'd been firmed and taken the initiative to introduce herself and shake Wilson's hand, also showing no signs of fright, especially with his intimidating size.

Still, there was something odd about her. He was intrigued, but also hoped this meant that Wesley had found someone for himself. He was glad. His assistant and close friend was usually so guarded and also too focused on the business that he hadn't really made time for himself or looked for real companionship.

Even if it was with this strange, impish girl.

"So Miss Potter, may I ask how old you are?" he asked as he set about making an omelet for each of them.

"15," she answered without a blink, though he did glance at Wesley, who was steadfastly focused on his phone. Wilson refrained from taking a deep breath. "I'm turning 16 in a few days though. You can also just call me Harry."

He inclined his head towards her. "Then please. Return the favor and call me Wilson."

She smiled brightly at him, and he could see how and why Wesley would have gotten so caught up in her. She was pretty and when she smiled, it felt like the sun was in the room.

"Sure thing, Wilson! So how long have you known Wesley?"

He could see Wesley quickly look up from his phone and look furtively between him and her.

"You could say we've known each other for a long time," Wilson answered lightly. "How about you?"

"Hm? I dunno. I think we met around a month ago. We met in that Walmart. He likes buying his Oreos there."

At that, he looked at Wesley in surprise, who had gone back to his phone. Inwardly exasperated, Wilson turned back to Harry, who was waiting patiently at the table. He quickly dished out the omelets onto plates and brought them over.

"Sounds like an interesting meeting," he commented.

Her lips twitched. "Interesting is one way to put it."

At that, he couldn't help letting out a laugh that startled his subordinate.

* * *

Wesley wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but he was surprised and relieved the meeting had gone well and without incident. The moment Wilson had found out about Harry and wanted to know about her, an incessant tenseness seemed to plague his mind and body. He didn't want her brought into his world. His world was dark and dangerous.

Even with her concerning and surprising comments about her occurrences with danger, he didn't think she realized just how dark and messed up his world really was. He'd wanted to keep her as far away from it as possible, but now with her having met Wilson, it felt like she was one step closer into entering it.

"That was interesting," Harry commented, heading towards Wesley's couch and taking out her books.

He closed the door behind him and entered his abode. He headed over to Harry and hesitantly sat by her.

"It was alright then?" he asked her.

"Yeah, sure. It didn't seem as bad as you were expecting," she said, giving him a knowing look.

He gave her a small smile. "I was worried. He's not the most…social of people."

"He's not?" she asked sarcastically. Her lips twitched and she rolled her eyes, patting his arm. "He seemed fine to me. You're worrying too much, I think. Anyway, want to go shopping for a swimsuit with me tomorrow?"

"A swimsuit?" he blinked.

"Yeah. I joined the swim team. Thought it'd be interesting. I was in a sports team back in England, and I thought doing another sport here would keep me active," she shrugged.

But then the image of her in a swimsuit popped up suddenly in his head and he shifted uncomfortably, trying to banish the image from his head.

"Tomorrow…tomorrow is Sunday," he murmured.

Tomorrow was the meeting with Union Allied Construction, to deal with the problems they were having. A secretary of theirs had accidentally been emailed some documents containing incriminating evidence. It hadn't been opened yet, but it was concerning and he might have to have a "talk" with her.

Wesley looked at Harry's expectant face, refraining from biting his lip and hiding his clenched hand.

"I have an appointment in the morning, but I can pick you up and you can come with me. It should be at least an hour at most, and then we can go straight to shopping for your swimsuit," he told her. "Is that okay?"

"I don't see why not," she nodded surely. "Alright, let's get started, huh?"

Relieved, but still worried about tomorrow, Wesley leaned closer and took a look at the page she was on.

Started 11/1/15 – Completed 11/2/15

 **A/n: Haha, the meeting finally! How was that? And also, slowly dipping into Daredevil TV canon a bit, as you can see at the end. Who's excited about that, huh? Oh yeah! Hoped everyone enjoyed this and please review!**

* * *

 **Anon reviews:**

1\. maru: Thanks for reviewing many of the chapters! I really appreciate your comments. Thanks for reviewing, even for the short chapters, and thinking they were cute :D I'm thinking magic, no matter what, would be the absolute worst for the Dursleys. And yep! Not totally AU ;)


	13. Fritzing

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Thirteen: Fritzing_

Wesley was feeling a bit rushed that morning. He'd told Harry that he would have to come early in the morning, and the fact of the matter was that this was really not an ideal situation to have her be with him. Honestly, he didn't know why he didn't just suggest to pick her up after, but the idea of having her around, of being able to spend more time with her, won out so easily in his mind.

She quite frankly made him all out of sorts.

So at 5 in the morning he drove up to her house, finding her waiting for him in the still darkened morning, looking cold and small in her huge hoodie as she leaned against the porch's stairway wall. He immediately got out of the car and met her halfway, placing his jacket around her.

"You should have waited for me inside," he lightly chastised her.

"I'd rather leave here without them awake," she told him dryly, though she did pull his jacket a little more around herself, trying to ward off the cold. She yawned a little, blinking sleepily. "So where are we off to for your appointment?"

"Union Allied Construction. I have to work some things out for Wilson there, hopefully quickly."

She gave him a suspicious look, but thankfully didn't ask any questions.

"Want to look like my personal assistant?" he suddenly asked teasingly, intriguing her. At her curious nod, he pointed towards the back of his car. "I have a suit your size you can change into. You can change in the back of the car; it'll be warmer. I'll just wait out here until you're done."

Grinning eagerly, she slipped into the back of the car, while he turned to face her house, lightly glaring at it. Just as he was contemplating doing something to wake the Dursleys up and ruin their sleep, Harry called out from behind him and he turned and noticed she had already moved to the front seat of the car and was ready to go. He slipped into the driver's seat and then faced her, mouth opening to say something snarky when instead he found himself examining and admiring the fitted suit on her.

Harry looked quite professional and could actually pass as a personal assistant. But then the thought of her being his assistant combined with how she looked right then made something in his stomach clench; a feeling he wisely ignored as he forced a smile on his face.

"You look nice. The look suits you," he complimented simply and then started the car.

She blushed a little, back to grinning. "This seems kind of fun and exciting, especially getting to pretend to be your personal assistant. I don't think I'd mind getting to do this more!"

"Careful, I might actually put you to work," he told her sarcastically.

"Hey! Don't sass me, mister!"

And Wesley laughed, the feeling he'd had earlier disappearing fully, which he was grateful for. Soon enough, he'd gone further into the city, where they were lucky enough that there wasn't traffic yet and arrived at Union Allied in no time. Wesley managed to find a good parking spot quickly, and then he was leading her into the building.

"Should I keep quiet?" she whispered to him.

Wesley glanced at her. "Probably. But I doubt you'd say something offensive or rude."

"What if I say something unprofessional?" she raised an eyebrow at him.

He shrugged. "I doubt it too, but I believe after dealing with your family for 15 years, you'd have enough patience to deal with these incompetent idiots."

Harry snickered under her breath, her emerald eyes twinkling in mischief at him. He memorized the look and set it with all the other memories he'd associated with her.

Wesley informed the right people of his presence and headed to the top floor unimpeded, where he could find one of the heads of Union Allied, along with the secretary's desk. Seeing as it was so early, the secretary wasn't there yet. Therefore, seeing as it was sent late last night, after she'd left, this left him plenty of time to remove the email and any evidence of it before she could open it up and read it. He eyed the name plaque on the front of the desk: Karen Page.

"So what are we here for?" Harry asked as she looked around curiously. Wesley took that time to head to Page's desk and sit down in front of her computer, turning it on. He had all the passwords needed, courtesy of Miss Page's boss.

"I just need to check on something and then talk with at least one of the bosses here," Wesley told her, already entering the password and logging in successfully. He then went to go to the secretary's company email and tried to log in, only to realize that she must've changed her password as the one her boss had given Wesley wasn't being taken in. He lightly cursed under his breath and gritted his teeth.

A hand on his shoulder made him give pause, and he looked up at the owner of the hand to see Harry looking down at him in worry.

"Everything alright?" she asked, voice soft, and he really appreciated how much more open she was now compared to how she was in the beginning towards him.

He gripped her hand on his shoulder and gave a small smile. "Just a small bump. I'll figure something out."

He saw a strand of hair having fallen forward onto her face, and he reached up slightly to push it back and behind her ear. Her face colored a bright red at the action, and he couldn't help gazing into her emerald eyes for a moment. He'd always noted and couldn't help focusing on how vivid and bright they always seemed…

The computer next to him sparked angrily and then the monitor screen messed up before turning black, while the system unit sparked again and then obviously fried, with smoke coming from it. The two of them jerked away from it in surprise, staring at it in shock.

"What in the world?" Wesley stared, while Harry turned even further red and kept quiet, moving slightly away from the computer even more. Still, Wesley couldn't help grinning at his luck, standing from the chair and leaning over the computer, poking at the smoking chassis. Though it was hot to the touch and slightly burned his finger, he was very certain that there was no saving the thing and that no information could be retrieved from it. Even if there was a possibility, the secretary wouldn't be able to look at it now and her boss could now find a way to access her email and manually remove the email himself, without her getting in the way. He would just have to inform Page's boss of the fact her password had been changed and that her company computer was invalid for some reason, and keep her from accessing her email before something could be done.

"You look happy?" Harry asked, giving him a strange look. Still grinning, he laughed in delight and pulled her into a hug.

"Happy is an understatement. I believe that my problem has at least been temporarily solved."

Unsure what he meant, Harry just gave him a confused smile and went with it. Wesley told her to stay a moment and he went to go looking for Karen Page's boss, informing him of the situation and getting a promise that he would resolve the situation and make sure that email would never be known, much less opened.

In an extremely good mood, Wesley retrieved Harry and they went back to the car, setting off to go shopping for swimsuits for Harry. They headed to the Walmart they usually met at, and wasted no time getting to the swimsuit section.

Wesley's good mood faltered a little.

"What…kind of swimsuit should you get?" Wesley asked hesitantly.

"We don't really have a uniform yet, so for now, especially being a public school, everyone's just using whatever swimwear they have," Harry explained as she glanced at him and back to the swimsuits she was browsing through. "I don't know what I should get. A few of the girls on the team suggested I get either a two-piece or a bikini, but I don't know."

Wesley, at her words, immediately pictured her in the two kinds of swimsuits and had to take a deep breath. She hadn't even picked one and his imagination was already going wild. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he forcibly expelled such thoughts and focused on looking through the racks of swimsuits for something she could wear. He focused on the one-pieces, going with something modest. For his own piece of mind at least.

(There was a part of him that didn't want the boys in her team and in her school to see her in a revealing swimsuit either.)

"Green is always nice on you," he commented, picking out a dark green one-piece that he handed over to her. She took it from him and observed it, nodding in approval.

"I'll go try it on, see if it fits and how it looks," she said and went to the fitting room, while causing him to feel uneasy again. After a few moments, she came back out and he tensed, looking at her in the swimsuit.

Even if it didn't reveal as much skin as a bikini or a two-piece, it still showed too much to him. Especially in the way it showed off her shapely legs, and the way it formed tightly to her body, most specifically around her bosom area.

"Well? How does it look?" Harry gave him an awkward smile and turned in a circle. "It's pretty minimalist and should do the job."

He inhaled sharply and did his best to offer her a normal smile. "Good. Should work fine."

Her smile became a little more relieved. "Alright. I'll just change back and then we can go buy it."

She left him and he raised his hand to wipe it down his face, messing his glasses up from its position on his face. Taking his hand away, he noticed it shaking and he shook his head at himself.

Really now. One would think he was a 13 year old teenager.

* * *

"Do you have plans for your birthday?" Wesley asked her all of a sudden, causing Harry to fidget on the couch she was sitting cross-legged on.

"Not really," she shrugged. "I don't usually. My birthday's never been too big a deal."

She saw Wesley briefly scowl before it was wiped off his face and he was smirking at her.

"So you're turning 16 and yet have no plans for a sweet 16? How boring," he teased her.

Harry just laughed. "I guess. I don't really have any ideas anyway, and I've never really celebrated my birthday either. Why? You have something in mind?" she asked, not really thinking anything of it.

"Wear flat-footed shoes, flats if you have them," he said all of a sudden, confusing her. "And don't change plans on me and decide to make plans after all."

Astonished, she looked at him unsurely, but he looked back at her confidently and looking like he had all the answers in the world. She decided that he probably was going to be stubborn about this, so thought it wasn't too big a deal for her to argue on.

"Hey, can I ask you about something?" she asked, thinking back to some of the things she'd heard in school. At his questioning look, she straightened up. "What's this I heard about aliens in New York? And there's stuff about a Norse god and a man in iron and a whole lot of things I don't understand."

Wesley looked at her in surprise, not sure he was hearing right. All this stuff that's happened in America and she hadn't heard or known a single bit of it? He had to admit he was taken aback by that, considering how crazy the events were and would surely be spread around and be heard by the whole world. But by the curious and interested gaze of his companion, she really hadn't heard of or known any of that.

"Well…I'm rather surprised you don't know anything about it, but…"

Wesley tentatively began to tell her about what he knew of all the events that happened so far in the past years, expanding on who the Avengers were, and watching as her eyes widened the more she listened to him.

"Like this Man in Black I've been hearing about around school?" she asked him suddenly, and he almost tensed up at the question. "One of the girls mentioned that she heard about him saving some women a few months back, around March I think. Is he a superhero too?"

Wesley smiled thinly, remembering about the incident and how Turk Barrett had caused them a setback with that incident, though he had brought this mysterious man to Wesley and Wilson's attention.

"I suppose you can call him that, though I don't think he has superpowers like those of Thor and the likes."

He better damn well not.

"You okay?" he heard Harry ask, and he looked at her to see him looking at him worriedly, and that she'd probably noticed his irritable state.

The question was should he be truthful to her about it or keep her out of the loop?

" _Just be honest with me about the basic. You don't have to give me details."_

"The Man in Black interfered with business that time," he reluctantly confessed but didn't elaborate.

Harry, for a second, looked caught off guard. Then she looked uneasy before deciding on a shaky smile.

"Maybe that's a good thing," she said simply and left it at that. He released the breath he was holding and gave her words serious thought.

Instead of answering, he stood up and grabbed her hands, pulling her up after him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, stumbling a bit.

"Do you know how to dance?" he asked her without preamble.

"Uh…just a waltz? And barely at that. I had something like a ball in my fourth year at my boarding school and I was required to learn," she admitted awkwardly.

Wesley pulled her close and wrapped her arms around his neck before putting his own around her waist.

"Slow dancing is pretty easy," he muttered, starting to sway with her.

She unsurely followed his lead, but soon enough felt comfortable enough to not focus on how to move the whole time, letting herself sway with him.

"Yeah, guess it is," she gave him a crooked grin.

It mesmerized him and made him want to lean over –

Wesley gave a polite smile back.

He didn't know what was worse. Thinking about how his job made things messy between them, or how he shouldn't think or feel this way towards her.

Started 11/15/15 – Completed 11/15/15

 **A/n: Yeah, how's that? I really liked this chapter XD The next chapter should also actually be rather long, considering I have a lot planned for it. Anyway, I also want to know if I should keep Karen in or not? Honestly, even with what happened to her storyline in this chapter, I had plans to still find a way to bring her in, but I just realized now that I could potentially just keep her out. I don't particularly like her character, more so after the latter half of the first season, but I can still write characters I don't like fine. Therefor I leave up to y'all! In any case, I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and will look forward to the next, and please remember to review!**


	14. Stoker

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Fourteen: Stoker_

Harry hopped on one foot as she kept the slice of toast in her mouth and attempted to get her shoe on. Finally shoving her trainer on, she tied it really quickly and then repeated the process with her other foot, managing to find something to lean on to help her out. When she looked outside the window, the man waiting for her looked bored. Sighing to herself, she finished up her toast and then headed outside.

"Ready, Miss Potter?"

She scrunched up her nose, but nodded towards the Hit Wizard. After the debacle of the Ministry Invasion, where Voldemort revealed himself and led to Fudge being dismissed and Minister Scrimgeour coming into office, the first thing he'd had ordered was attaching a "bodyguard" to her. Thankfully, since the move to America and the deal between Dumbledore and Scrimgeour that she be better off kept quiet and under a Fidelius Charm, she hadn't really needed to have Arnold Peasegood around. Or so she thought.

She would be missing Hogwarts this year, but her education would still be taken to task by Peasegood. Dumbledore, also, had hinted at some kind of lesson he'd wanted her to learn, so he'd be periodically coming too, through the school year. Given that only Dumbledore was the Secret Keeper, with Peasegood having become a secondary, no one else knew of her location and so she'd have to learn on her own and keep her head down.

"We'll be going to Vertical Alley, the American version of Diagon," Peasegood told her. "You'll be needing a secondary wand and two holsters. If you need anything else, we'll buy them there."

She nodded and came closer, and he grabbed her arm before Apparating from there. They landed nearby a small building, and Peasegood was quick to usher her to it and then inside. Her eyes widened though, as the inside was completely larger than the outside had suggested and the fact the place was like a mall, rather than an "alley."

"I thought you said we were going to Vertical _Alley_ ," she croaked out.

Peasegood snorted, rolling his eyes. "You've been here a month. You should know Americans like to grandstand things. The name is just a name anyhow, probably a nod to Diagon Alley as it's obviously not an alley."

She nodded numbly and Peasegood headed over to an electronic board that held a map of the mall on it.

"Wands are here, so we'll head over and get you one quickly," he told her. "You should know you have permission to use magic here, and that it won't be traced or even noticed in the first place. Just remember the usual rules."

"Right," she muttered. "What about money? Is there a Gringotts here?"

"No, there is only one Gringotts in the world," he informed her. "I have obtained in your name what Gringotts have called their version of a 'Centurion Card,' so that you may buy things in both Muggle and Wizarding worlds without hassle, and having to periodically return to Gringotts and acquire currency. However, they sent me parchment which will periodically inform you of your banking statements, since you hadn't been able to receive and look them over before. I'll hand it to you before I leave."

She hadn't noticed they'd been walking while talking, and that they had already reached the wand store in the mall. From there, she entered hesitantly, still remembering her experience in Ollivander's. Which she was right to, seeing as soon as she'd started out trying wands, she either got no reaction or very violent ones. There didn't seem to be an in between. Fortunately, after going through many boxes of wands, she finally found the right fit with black and green sparks coming out of a blackthorn, Hungarian Horntail heartstring wand, whose design reminded her a bit of Hermione's, though much darker and a little thornier in design.

"Now that that's over with," Peasegood eyed her and her wand, "We'll take a quick look around the shops, and if you think of something you need immediately, speak up."

She agreed and then they looked around, Harry still amazed at the size of the place and the variety of things being sold. She did see something that interested her, and she had to direct Peasegood's attention to it.

"I would like to get a phone," she said quietly, hoping she could use it and be able to contact and talk to Wesley more easily. She enjoyed the fact that America had so many electronics around that had been fiddled to work with magic, and it reminded her of Mr. Weasley and his penchant for experimenting with Muggle things. He would have enjoyed all this.

Trying not to get all nostalgic, she focused in on Peasegood, who looked hesitant and confused. However, he slowly nodded and acquiesced to her request. They quickly bought her magical cell phone, and Harry wished she could show it off to Wesley, though she knew she had to keep it in Muggle mode around him. It was slightly disappointing, but she understood.

Finishing up there, Peasegood then took her back to her home. He handed her her purchases and then her new Gringotts Card, along with a roll of parchment.

"Every Saturday, starting next one, we will be continuing your education, even though the school year has not started," she almost pouted at that, considering her Muggle school had already started their school year earlier than most of the other Muggle schools, and now she had to tack on Wizarding education on top of that. "Again, you have permission to use magic, especially when you are in danger. You have your Emergency Potion set with you, and you remember to carry it around?"

She grabbed the little pouch attached to a cord around her left wrist and held it up.

"Good," Peasegood nodded, pleased. "Carry it around. Make more potions if you need, and since you now have means to create them and know where to replenish your ingredients…"

"I don't know where that place was though," she said, remembering. "You Apparated us there."

He grimaced and found something to write on, putting down the address. "I'll have to teach you Apparition first," he muttered to himself.

Considering she was supposed to be too young to learn it and get a license, she admitted to getting excited for that course and that she might be able to learn it earlier than she was supposed to.

"I also must inform you that upon turning 16, you must now –having inherited your titles –be referred to as Lady Potter-Black. However, given how we don't want you to be found accidentally, we believe that using an older, rather forgotten name of a family the Potters were descended from would work better, so please use Lady Peverell from now on."

Harry almost made a face, but forced herself to nod.

He hesitated before continuing. "You won't officially attain the titles until Sirius Black's will is read and you are named his heir to all and therefore successor to his line and the family. His Will Reading will be next week, and after lessons I shall bring you there."

At that she winced and didn't bother with an answer.

Peasegood brought his hands to her shoulders and held them there. He hesitated again before speaking.

"I must go now, but…happy birthday, Harry."

He squeezed her shoulders, before he took a step back and then Apparated on the spot. Harry adjusted her things and then carried the bags into the house, heading straight to her room. After dropping her bags to the floor, she decided she should change clothes. Maybe something nicer and all, since Wesley apparently had made up plans for her birthday that she was still unsure of.

Looking at the sundresses in her closet that she had yet to wear, she blushed lightly and looked through them, choosing a tea green halter sundress and then finding her old emerald flats that she'd used back in the Yule Ball.

For the first time, she was actually happy and excited about her birthday, and looked forward to celebrating it.

* * *

Annoyed. Annoyed, annoyed, annoyed. That was all that was going through Wesley's mind as he half-listened to McClintock talk about the almost mishap with his former secretary, who he ended up firing for the password change. "It was a 'company policy' for those to be kept the same, and to inform superiors if they needed and had to be changed."

"Was that wise?" Wesley asked sharply, his eyeglasses glinting in the dim light of the closed nightclub they were meeting in. "It might make her suspicious or upset enough to retaliate."

Beside him, Leland Owlsley sat up and leaned forward, examining McClintock closely. McClintock looked taken aback.

"No, sir. I'm quite sure that it was a good opportunity to get rid of her. It's an actual policy, so her termination was legal and fair. I thought it best, considering Page has a history of being very self-righteous and probably not the type to be bought off or threatened into silence if something like this were to happen again, and she successfully found out," McClintock explained confidently.

Wesley's lips pressed into a thin line. "I see. While the circumstances were fortunately in our favor, I would _prefer_ for this to not happen _again_. My employer was most displeased with this incident, and I'm sure that if it were to happen again, he would be more than… _displeased_."

McClintock swallowed nervously, nodding slowly. "I…understand."

"Good. Now that we're clear on things, you can hand Owlsley the pension file, and he will deal with the rest," Wesley sat back, still feeling annoyed and wanting to glance at his watch. He didn't want to be late meeting Harry, especially given this was her birthday.

They finished up and McClintock left first. He started walking out of the building, though Owlsley hurried to catch up. Wesley's annoyance just further increased.

"Is there something else I can do for you, Owlsley?" he barely kept the annoyance out of his voice, and did his best to not look it either.

"The others wanted to meet tonight," Owlsley spoke quickly. "They were asking to meet with –"

"We don't say his name," Wesley interrupted with a warning glance. "And as for meeting tonight…"

Wesley knew that Wilson wouldn't want to meet yet, and so would have left it up to Wesley. But he couldn't that night…he'd already made plans with Harry and he wasn't just about to abandon her and change plans on her just like that.

"Tonight isn't the perfect time. If we must meet, tomorrow night will have to do."

A part of him felt guilty, because he'd never actually shrugged off his duties to Wilson before. But he thought it's just one night. What was the harm in putting it off for another night?

It was Harry's birthday after all, and everything in his being recoiled from just the thought of ruining it for her and disappointing her.

Disgruntled, Owlsley agreed and added on that he'd inform the others, and then left Wesley behind. Wesley quickly entered into his car and let his driver bring him back to the apartment complex where he went to his own car and started to panic as he glanced at the time. It was getting too close to the time he told Harry he'd pick her up at, and he still had a few errands to run first before he could. He drove out of there rapidly and headed to his first destination, getting what he needed from there and then heading to one more place. Then he raced to Harry's house, probably running more than a few red lights.

Reaching her house in record time, he got out of the car just as she walked out, grinning ear to ear at each other. He couldn't help it, while she seemed giddy and excited about all this. That, though, pleased him and made him definitely not regret shirking his duties and that he'd managed to plan all this.

"Right on time," her emerald eyes shined brightly. "So where are we going?"

However, his eyes finally left her grinning face and took her all in, his breath catching in his throat as he realized she was wearing one of the sundresses finally. It fit her and she looked so beautiful, the hemline drifting just over her knees, and the halter top of the dress curving and clinging to her bosom flatteringly. He could feel his eyes widening and his jaw loosening embarrassingly, and he was trying his best to breathe again.

"You look wonderful," he breathed out.

Her face was bright red and she was looking away from him, though he couldn't help noticing that she kept glancing at him, particularly down…wards…

Looking down, Wesley was mortified to find that his reaction to her was completely and utterly obvious. There was no hiding it or else make it even more obvious and humiliating, so he pretended he hadn't sexually reacted to her. Of course not. Because he was better than that.

' _She's only a year away from being legal in this state…Who cares about a year? You could just –'_

He shut that voice down and made himself stop thinking, because his thoughts were continually plaguing him with ideas that were too tempting.

Crossing her arms across her chest and still not looking at him directly, Harry coughed and shrugged slightly. She glanced at him shyly.

"Um, happy to see me, huh?" she chuckled nervously.

He twitched and forced out a smile. "Maybe too much," he said dryly, but that somehow managed to break the ice and they were laughing quietly together and giving each other wry looks.

She strode closer and he helped her into the car, before getting in himself. He was about to drive off when his phone rang and he scowled.

"Sorry, I have to take this," he told Harry reluctantly.

But she just gave an understanding nod and he answered his phone irritably.

"What?" he snapped into it.

"…Wesley?" Wilson's hesitant voice called out and he winced. He should have glanced at the Caller ID.

He cleared his throat in embarrassment. "Sorry, sir. I'm a bit busy and thought you were one of the others. Is there something you needed?"

"I was going to ask about the meeting with McClintock and how negotiations with Prohaszka are."

Wesley felt himself twitch again, and he looked at Harry for a second. She was looking at him curiously, if a bit wary.

"The meeting went well enough, though he informed me that he also took the opportunity to fire his secretary. A future incident with her could lead to worrying consequences, so it was nipped in the bud. Prohaszka is being…difficult." Honestly, though he maintained his professionalism, Wesley (for once) wanted to hurry this conversation up and end it, even though it was Wilson.

"You sound…hurried."

He flinched. "I apologize, sir. Like I said…I'm in the middle of something."

"…" the silence was obviously expectant, so Wesley sighed.

"It's Harry's birthday," he mumbled into the phone, giving another glance to Harry, who straightened at hearing her name come up. "I was spending the day and night with her." And because he felt incredibly guilty about it, more now that he was actually talking to Wilson, "Owlsley wanted to have a meeting tonight. I put it off for tomorrow," he confessed.

"…I see. That is fine, Wesley," Wilson actually said. "Enjoy yourselves and convey a happy birthday to her from myself. I apologize for interrupting."

And then his boss hung up and Wesley was staring at his phone incredulously. He still wasn't sure if he'd actually heard Wilson apologizing.

"Is everything alright?" Harry's accented voice reached him, and Wesley shook himself out of his daze.

"It's fine," he reassured her, starting his car. "Wilson just wanted a report on things. He did wish to tell you happy birthday."

While Harry looked pleased at the greeting, Wesley decided to just put it out of mind and not think on it now. He drove off and they went to go to a restaurant where he had reservations in his name. Afterwards, they headed to his apartment where he had everything else prepared. Glad that the drive was quick, he retrieved the boxes from his trunk and playfully ignored Harry's curious questions about them, only smirking at her or giving her infuriating, roundabout answers. But once in his apartment, he deposited the boxes on his kitchen table and took the smaller one at the top. He then walked over to Harry and opened it, and she let out a quiet gasp.

"One of the traditions of a sweet 16, I believe, was that the birthday girl was presented with a tiara," he declared, showing off the Black Swarovski Crystal tiara he'd had commissioned for her. "Usually the mother places it on the daughter's head, but well, you've just got me here," he gave her a slight grin.

Her cheeks were prettily flushed, and she tilted her head downwards for him to gently place it on her head.

"I'm not sure I want to know how much this cost," she bit her lip, while she straightened up.

"They're not diamonds," his lips twitched in amusement. At her relieved look, he continued. "They are Swarovski Crystal though."

She sighed in exasperation, but she was smiling at him fondly. "I could have done with a normal, cheaper tiara."

"I know," he said simply. He then took her by her arms and led her to the table, to the second, larger and rather insulated box. "I wasn't sure if I should do this next ceremony, but I thought why not?"

He opened it up to reveal an ice cream cake, Oreos & Cookies n' Cream to be exact. She rolled her eyes, but kept her laugh to herself. He started placing a bunch of candles on it, before taking a lighter and flipping it to reveal a flame.

"Technically, each candle is supposed to represent important people in your life," he told her. "So sorry you have to deal with just me again."

But she was smiling widely and shaking her head, so he focused on lighting the candles.

"First one's for your parents," he lit one. "The second for siblings or grandparents. 3, 4, 5, 6 are for the rest of your family members or those you consider family, because I highly doubt you want to include the Dursleys in this," she laughed at him and he smirked. "7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14 are for friends. 15 is for your best friend or friends. And lastly…"

He held off on the last candle, just holding the flame right above the wick. He looked at her hesitantly.

"The last is for a significant male, usually a boyfriend or just a friend," he ended, watching her closely.

She leaned closer to him and grabbed the hand holding the lighter, leading it closer to the wick and lighting it. She gave him a happy smile.

"I don't think I've ever had a real birthday before, much less one as fantastic as this one. Thank you," she said sincerely, looking at him gratefully.

He felt extremely blissful and pleased, watching her blow the candles. Afterwards, they ate a slice of the cake each, before he put it away and went on to the next bit. He had her wait a moment, before disappearing into his room and then coming out with a pair of white-silver, satin high-heeled pumps displayed on a small pillow. He held back a smile as he saw her eyes grow wide.

"Oh, they're beautiful," she murmured, her eyes lingering on the diamond Celtic knot buckles.

He kneeled before her, placing the pillow on the floor. "Usually the father does this, replacing flats," he reached out and quietly traced a finger on her emerald flats, "with high heels to signify the transition into womanhood."

Wesley looked up at her, his eyes hooded and a lazy smirk on his face.

"I'll have to do again, won't I?"

Both of his hands reached out and gripped one of her feet, raising it gently. Slowly, he placed his hand above her feet and used his palm to caress upward and find a hold on her ankle. His other still holding her foot then began to tenderly take her shoe off and place it to the side. Keeping his hold on her ankle to help him keep her foot up, he grabbed one of the heels and carefully placed it on her foot. Daringly, because he was sure she probably knew by now how he felt about her, he kissed her ankle briefly.

Though he heard her breath hitch, he focused instead on repeating the process with her other foot. And when he was done, he stayed kneeling before her and looked up at her, smirking again.

"I hope, despite the lack of others, that I've made do."

She gave him a weak smile, nodding slowly. Biting her lower lip, the action drawing his gaze, Harry leaned down and grabbed his arms, pulling him up.

"This was all…more than I could have imagined. I couldn't have asked for any of this. It means a lot to me, you know, Wesley?" she told him unsurely.

His smirk softened into a small smile, and he took her hands and squeezed them.

"And I was happy to do this for you," he admitted easily. "And now for the last part," he surprised her, pulling her to his balcony. "There's the father-daughter dance, but since I'm thankfully not your father, we can still just slow dance out here. Like the other time."

She nodded in acquiesce, placing her arms like she remembered from last time. And if she closed her eyes and listened to his heartbeat when he pulled her close enough that her ear was placed against his chest, then she would be content enough to confess that she felt too happy to care what anyone said.

And if she fell asleep in his arms because she was too content, then she would also say she didn't mind or cared that he'd scooped her up into his arms and brought her to his bed, tucking her in before he went and made himself comfortable on his couch.

Harry didn't remember a time where someone had spent so much time and effort on her.

Started 11/19/15 – Completed 11/19/15

 **A/n: Haha, I updated again this week! I couldn't help it. I mean, I really liked this story back when it was just drabbles, but now I'm like I** _ **really**_ **like it and getting into it way too much. So here's a second helping for the week! Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and please remember to review!**

* * *

 **Quick Points:**

1\. Tiara and heels Based off of real stuff. Tiara: weddingsandsuchboutiquedotcomslashblack-swarovski-crystal-tiaradothtml Heels: aliexpressdotcomslashstoreslashproductslashSHOEZY-brand-womens-peep-toe-pumps-shoes-satin-white-silver-buckle-diamond-dress-party-high-heelsslash201377_32224880155dothtml

2\. Karen: Yeah, once she met up with Ben Urich and became obsessed, she just went downhill for me. I'm still debating on her inclusion (if anyone has input, go ahead and say your piece), but I'm writing towards her coming in and being a simple background character… (It must be bad when I started cheering for Marcy getting together with Foggy, instead of her…)

3\. Age of Consent in NY: As someone sort of semi-asked, it's 17. So Wesley has to wait a year…if he can hold out that long XD

4\. "Prompts": Still accepting them :D

* * *

Anon Reviews:

1\. Guest: Heh, I can't help the cuteness? XD Thanks!


	15. Some Morphine, Please

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Fifteen: Some Morphine, Please_

 _Marci Stahl knew there was something interesting at the table next to her. Even though she was with her boss in a business meeting with a client, she'd gotten entirely too bored as talk turned to horse races and golfing techniques. Therefore, it was totally understandable if her attention had been drawn to the unusual dark-haired couple next to her._

 _He was obviously older than her, but she wasn't lacking in maturity if observed outwardly. The girl was the elegant beauty type, while the man was very handsome. Sitting across from each other, it was clear he was much more taller than she, but if pictured next to each other, Marci could hazard a guess they'd fit nicely against each other._

" _I have no idea what to get," she heard the girl whisper to the man, and she oddly noted the English accent._

 _He smiled faintly. "Shall I order for you then?"_

 _The girl, dressed in a nice (if underdressed for this kind of restaurant) sundress, huffed slightly._

" _I don't know. You might order me some kind of Oreo entrée."_

 _He began laughing quietly. "I promise I won't, Harry. So let me order, and before you say anything, don't ask about prices. They're absent on the menu for a reason."_

' _Harry' winced. "That's what I was afraid of, Wesley."_

' _Wesley' tossed his companion an amused look, before he flagged down a waiter._

 _For the rest of that time, Marci couldn't help listening in and being both amused and envious of the easy and sweet comradery between the two as they conversed and teased each other through their meal._

 _And when they left, she kind of let the thought that she missed Foggy Nelson horribly run through her mind._

* * *

Harry was yawning and stretching in the comfy bed. When she gained more awareness, she realized this wasn't her bed and room and she sat up quickly. Looking around in alarm, the previous night's happenings came back to her and she slowly relaxed as she realized that she was in Wesley's room and that she must've fallen asleep while they'd danced.

Her lips twitched up a little and she looked around again, noting that she didn't see Wesley anywhere and that the other side of the bed was untouched. Slipping out of the bed, she also noted she'd slept in her sundress, which was wrinkled. She'd have to ask Wesley for an iron so she can iron it before she left, but in the meantime, she hoped he didn't mind if she filched something to wear that was more comfortable to move around. Even if the sundress was easy to move around in already, she still wasn't used to it, despite robes being sort of similar.

She found his drawers and carefully looked through them, finding the smallest shirt she could at the bottom. She wondered if he wore anything casual, because she couldn't see anything aside from button up shirts that were folded so neatly that she suspected Wesley was probably a bit of a neat freak and maybe just the slightest OCD.

Slipping out of her sundress, Harry put on the dress shirt and started buttoning it up. Then she thought maybe she should go looking for Wesley, let him know she was awake. Going out of the room, she found the living room and immediately found her tiara placed in its box. Biting her lip and trying to fight back the oncoming blush that was threatening to stain her face, she reached out and touched it in awe, remembering how Wesley had so delicately placed it on her head. It really was beautiful…

A slight sigh caught her attention and she followed the sound to the couch, where she looked over the back of the couch to find Wesley sleeping, having given up his bed for her. She couldn't help smiling at that, though this time she couldn't fight off the blush as she realized he slept in his boxers, with the blanket he was using pooled around his waist.

Harry wasn't sure why she was so surprised that he was actually pretty trimmed, despite the fact he was just a personal assistant.

With a full on raging blush on her face, she left him behind to find his kitchen and find some eggs. She also found bread, bacon, sausages, and tomatoes. He didn't have any beans, but she didn't like them anyway, so it was alright.

She started on breakfast, working eggs first. Not knowing how he liked them, she settled for making each of them an over easy, some scrambled, and her personal favorite being poached. She set those aside, and then began on the meat, cooking the sausages and then the bacon. By the time she was frying the bread, Wesley was up and watching her in amazement.

For his part though, the smell of something cooking when he'd first started to wake up brought his thoughts to confusion as to who he'd brought into his apartment. Then, at the same time as he remembered Harry was still in his home, his mouth watered and he thought that whatever it was smelled very delicious. Rising up from the couch, he shoved on his glasses and he found his shirt from last night and at least wore it, even if he didn't button it up or grab his pants as well. He moved to his kitchen and had to grip the kitchen entrance's frame hard as he watched Harry cook in one of his shirts.

The sight of her in it made him feel strange, while seeing her doing something so domestic in his home put an unfamiliar longing in him. He could see her doing this every morning, and he thought he could get used to it very easily.

"Good morning," he forced out, and she turned slightly and gave him a wide grin.

"Morning! I hope you don't mind, but I borrowed one of your shirts? I'm still not used to dresses, and it felt weird to still be in it. Plus, it's wrinkled," she explained.

He wondered how she'd look in his boxers, or if her waist would be too slim for them.

"It's fine," he told her, smiling oddly. "What are you cooking? Although, you didn't have to cook."

"I don't mind. And I'm making a fry-up," she gestured to the food already cooked, and he could see two plates with different types of eggs, some sausages, and bacon. As he walked closer, he could see she was frying up bread.

"Are you frying bread?" he asked in confusion.

"Mmhm," she nodded, finishing up with them and putting the fried bread on the plates. "It's common in a fry-up. I didn't know what type of eggs you liked, so I cooked them three different ways. There's some bacon and some bangers."

He blinked. "I like…poached eggs. What are bangers?"

She pointed at the sausages in embarrassment. "It's what we English call sausages. A fry-up is a full English breakfast, though this is just the simple version of it," she explained, while starting to broil tomatoes. "I'm grilling the tomatoes to finish it off."

"You're broiling them," he scrunched up his eyebrows.

They looked at each other before they laughed lightly.

"Hush, you American," Harry grumbled. "It's grilling to us Brits."

He continued to laugh at her, even as he transferred the plates to the table. "Sorry," even though he didn't sound sorry. He started to make some coffee too, turning on his coffee maker.

"Do you have tea?" she asked him. At his raised eyebrow, she huffed. "Really? You really are such an American! I can't stand coffee," she admitted to him.

"I'll keep that in mind," his lips curled up in amusement.

"At least we both like poached eggs," she said suddenly, and he was pleased to be finding out about all these things about her.

They had a relaxing breakfast together, and Wesley couldn't remember having a home-cooked meal, much less having breakfast made for him. And having breakfast like this either, with someone he wanted to be around and was having a good time being with and talking to. He didn't think he'd ever felt like this before.

"Can I take a shower? I'm just going to iron my dress and then shower before I put it back on," she looked at him hesitantly.

The thought of her taking a shower in his home, of being _bare_ and practically _vulnerable_ not too far away from him…

He swallowed heavily, but told her to go ahead. He stayed completely still in his seat, frozen and unable to make himself move anywhere or in any way. Only once he heard the shower running that he shook himself out of it and began cleaning up his kitchen. He'd just finished when he heard the knock on his door. Buttoning his shirt halfway and snatching his pants to slip on quickly (his belt was forgotten in his hurry and he just left it undone), he answered his door and was shocked and dismayed to find his boss standing there.

Wilson stared. "Good…morning, Wesley."

"Good morning, sir," Wesley felt his face flush in embarrassment. "Um…I'm sorry for the disarray, Wilson. Was there something you needed me for?"

Wilson held up the small present in his hand. "I was going to give this to you to give to Harry when you next see her, as a late birthday present."

But the way Wesley looked and hearing the shower in the background had Wilson narrowing his eyes at his subordinate.

"I thought you were with Harry yesterday… and the night before?" his tone was slightly accusatory and Wesley winced.

"Harry stayed over," he acknowledged.

Wilson coughed slightly, looking strangely a little embarrassed.

"Actually, I was thinking that you might have either been with someone else yesterday, or had brought someone else to your apartment after spending time with Harry," Wilson explained mutedly.

Oh. Oh _God_. Wilson had actually thought he'd been cheating (Was it cheating? He wasn't exactly with Harry. Yet.) on Harry.

"Well, that's," Wilson paused, starting to frown. "Better than I'd thought." But then he was still frowning at Wesley, and he realized that now Wilson thought he'd _slept_ with Harry.

And because he was starting to feel guilty in the face of his boss again, he rushed to explain. "Nothing happened of course. She fell asleep and I let her sleep on the bed, while I took the couch."

Wilson instinctively relaxed at that, though now the two of them were awkwardly facing each other and standing around not knowing what to say next.

"Wesley? Is something wrong?" they both heard Harry ask nearby, and Wesley turned to see Harry looking at him curiously. Taking a step away from the door to reveal his boss, Harry looked surprised before shyly smiling and waving.

"Hello, Wilson. Nice seeing you again," she said, tugging nervously on her sundress.

Wilson smiled at her. "Hello again, Harry. I heard it was your birthday yesterday. Happy birthday."

Wesley stepped aside further to let his boss in, and Wilson took a few steps inside. Harry walked closer, beaming at the large man.

"Thank you! It means a lot to me," Harry expressed sincerely, looking up at the man with bright emerald eyes.

"This is for you," Wilson held out his gift.

Surprised but excited, Harry took it and carefully opened the gift, finding a Star Wars-themed bracelet. Wilson cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Wesley had told me before that you hold a great fondness for the franchise. I saw a special for a jewelry store advertising their new collection, and thought you might like it."

Smiling widely, she shocked the other when she stepped forward and gave a tight hug.

"Thank you so much. It's lovely!"

Wilson smiled warmly at her. "I'm glad you like then. Please, may I?" he took the bracelet and gestured to her wrist.

She held out her left wrist, and he carefully put it on there. Wesley, on the other hand, was both pleased and surprised at this.

"I'll just leave you two now. Wesley, when you're available, come see me, alright?" Wilson then took a step back and regarded them, watching the way the two of them intuitively leaned closer to each other. His smile warmed even more. "Until next time, Harry."

He left them then, and Wesley gave Harry a nonplused but pleased look. She gave him a bemused one back.

"That was nice of him," Harry decided on.

Wesley agreed, even if it wasn't something he was used to seeing from his boss.

* * *

As they were driving back, Harry watched Wesley and thought about that morning and the night before. He finally said something as he parked in front of her house.

"Something the matter?" he lightly smirked at her, though his concern was obvious.

"I haven't slept that well for the longest time," she confessed.

Though he was bothered by her having trouble sleeping, he didn't push because he could see she didn't want to talk about it. She bit her lip, and the thought that it might be a habit for her crossed his mind, considering she always seemed to do it when she was hesitant or bothered by something. But any thoughts about that flew out of his head as Harry stared up at him from under her eyelashes, and then she was slowly –tentative even –moving up and her lips pressed against his cheek, close to the corner of his mouth. He held still and she kept her lips there for a moment longer, before she finally moved away.

Her lips opened and she was about to say something, when she closed them and watched him warily.

"Thank you," she murmured, and then was out of his car and running towards her home before he could reply.

His fingers lightly touched the spot that she'd kissed, and then he closed his eyes and tried to imagine it again, hoping to recall the feel and memorize everything about the moment. And the thought that just an inch more and she would have kissed him truly would probably plague him for a long time.

He took a deep breath and glanced back at the house, before starting the car and driving off.

He had two meetings to get ready for.

But as he left her behind, Harry had the misfortune to run into the house with the Dursleys wide awake. They looked at her and she looked at them.

"Had a good night then?" her uncle snidely asked, noticing she was wearing the same sundress she wore the day before and the time she came in now being the next day. It had crossed Petunia and his minds about where had that dress (and when they peeked into her closet, saw more of them) had come from. Seeing the car and the tutor, they could make a guess.

"Fine," she gritted her teeth, uncaring what they thought or assumed.

And before they could say another word, she turned on her heel and left them behind, unwilling to hear anything else come out of their mouths. In her room, she changed into her more familiar baggy clothing, plopping onto her bed irritably. She angrily curled her knees to her, holding onto them as she glared at the wall. Furiously wiping tears that sprung up, Harry did her best to just calm down.

"How was it?"

Her head snapped towards the door and she saw her cousin sneering at her.

"Go away, Dudley," she snapped at him.

"Come on," he cajoled mockingly. "How was it? Did he fuck you good?"

"Get out!" she grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him. And then she grabbed whatever was in reach and threw it in his direction until he fled from her wrath. Saying to hell with it, she leaped off her bed and stormed back down the stairs and out of the house. She didn't care whatever they had to say about her, but she wasn't just going to sit there and take it.

Wondering if she could go to Wesley's place, she decided not to as she remembered he had important work to do and that (listening to him yesterday and then with Wilson that morning) he would be really busy. Maybe that night, she'd chance it. But for right now, she should just bugger off until she was sure that maybe he'd be back home.

Walking about, she'd walked near a dingy neighborhood, only to hear something make a loud thud against a dumpster. Worried, she cautiously moved close, flicking her wrist and springing her wand into her hand from its invisible holster. When she opened the dumpster, she stared and practically gaped inside, watching a man dressed in black groaning.

"What the bloody hell?" she exclaimed.

Hearing him groan again and clutch at his ears, she guessed that she'd been too loud. Looking around nervously, she cast a quick Notice Me Not Charm and the Disillusionment Charm, and then she levitated him out of the dumpster.

"Hey, you," she muttered to him. "Where can I take you?"

"Where…where are we?" he asked, obviously in pain.

She looked around and spotted some signs, and rattled off the street to him. He then gave her directions to follow, and she did her best to get him there unnoticed in the daylight. She was surprised to find herself in a corner apartment that was fixed up rather well. From there, she began healing him, muttering healing spells and doing the best she could. She also gave him some potions, to help speed up the healing process and numb the pain.

"Who are you?" he asked sometime later, feeling so much better than he'd had when he'd been in that dumpster.

But now that she'd really observed him, she uneasily noted the black clothing and the black _mask_ , figuring out that the Man in the Mask was right in front of her. On one hand, of course she wasn't going to leave him to die or be alone in pain and not help him. On the other, she knew Wesley disliked him and he'd interfered in Wesley's incredibly (and probably very illegal, bad, horrible) shady business. She also knew that this man had allowed her to help him and had allowed her to bring him to his (oh Merlin, it had to be) apartment.

For some reason, he had (please, any god out there, why?) trusted her with that information.

This was the kind of information she didn't want to know, because Wesley trusted her and liked her and –this wasn't really fair. And to be honest, she had always felt like she could (just a little) maybe help change or get Wesley away from all this. A part of her somehow felt like it knew Wesley didn't really care for all this, but he felt it (him) all necessary and loyally stuck out for Wilson (and she thought maybe she could work on him too).

And she just knew the Man in the Mask was their enemy, and she was helping their enemy.

"Harry," she whispered hesitantly, watching him from afar and glancing at the door and wondering if she should just escape out of it now.

"Oh…you have a beautiful voice," he muttered lethargically and then passed out.

She stared at him incredulously. This was going to be very awkward, and she wasn't sure what to do right then.

Unable to not let her curiosity get the best of her, she explored his apartment, finding it normal enough. He had good taste in silk sheets, not much stocking his fridge, and had minimal but tasteful decorations. She was kind of thirsty, so she uncomfortably found a glass and filled it with water. And though she'd magically cleaned him of whatever gunk he'd had on him, she thought that maybe a wet rag would be nice too. So she grabbed a bowl, filled it with water, and then found a rag.

Kneeling by his side while he was draped on the couch, she contemplated removing the mask or keep it on to preserve his privacy. Figuring he'd prefer his privacy, she focused on the lower half of his face and on his neck. Afterwards, she folded the wet rag neatly and placed it on his forehead. Then she looked at the time and bit her lip.

Harry glanced at him. "Hey…I'm just going to hang here for a bit, 'kay?"

She shrugged slightly at his unconscious figure and found the remote, turning on the TV. And when he was still out a few hours later, she checked him and made sure he was alright, before hightailing it out of there.

* * *

Disgruntled, Wesley left the meeting irritably, mostly due to the Russians. Anatoly and Vladimir were useful for now, but if the Ranskahov brothers stopped being so…

He got into his car and his driver drove him back to the apartment complex, where he walked briskly to the elevator and then headed up to his floor. However, the sight of a familiar girl hunched against his door, sitting on the floor vulnerably, had him speeding and rushing to reach her.

"Harry?!"

She looked up at him and gave a small smile, eyes red and looking like she'd been crying.

"Hey," she said weakly. "I thought I could stay over tonight?"

"Of course," he muttered, helping her up and then opening his door. He led her inside and then brought her to his couch, sitting her down. "What happened?" he demanded.

Though she looked hesitant to tell him, he managed to coax it out of her. And then he was pissed as hell, and he wanted to storm over to her family and show them exactly just what he was capable of. But then he looked at her and saw that his place at the moment was with her, and nothing was more important than that. He brought her into his arms and held her tight.

"What do they know anyway? Your family's a bunch of ignorant morons," he grumbled against her, and he could feel her laugh slightly. "Don't listen to them. To any of them."

Her small hands clutched at his front and he felt useless. He didn't know what to do or how to help her. He hated that because he was so used to being able to take care of things. It was what he was good at, and what he'd always managed to be able to do for Wilson. But right now he had nothing.

Wesley picked her up, making sure to wrap her legs around him securely while holding tight to her. He brought her to his room and rummaged into a drawer and found a shirt for her, before bringing her into the bathroom.

"A hot shower will help you feel better," he murmured against her. And when it seemed like she didn't want to let go, he went to the shower stall and turned it on before he did his best to set her down before him.

When she didn't seem to want to let go of him, he kept his eyes on his shower wall and carefully moved his hands to the hem of her shirt and helped her out of it. He saw her reach down to unbutton her jeans, so he turned around to give her privacy. Hearing her get into the stall, he was about to leave when he felt her hands grip his pants and tug at him, and he sat down carefully while his clothes got wet. But then she was wrapping her arms around him from behind, and she buried her face against his back. The moment he heard her start crying, he froze up and listened to her sobs. A moment later, he threw modesty and caution aside as he turned around and gripped onto her.

"It's alright. You have me and I'm not going anywhere," he reassured her the best he could.

Sitting under the water with her was all he could do, it seemed.

And when she decided to finish up the shower and actually clean up, he quickly grabbed a towel to wrap around her the moment she stepped out of the stall. While she dried up, he'd turned to grab his shirt from the sink and unbutton it so he could put it around her. Turning to face her, he kept his eyes on her miserable face and offered a small smile that she tried to return. He placed his shirt around her and slipped the towel off, at the same time as she began to button his shirt. He playfully rubbed the towel on her still wet hair, before seeing her insecurely hold her arms out.

Taking her into his arms again, he carried her back to his room and slipped the both of them under the covers. He could smell his usual scent on her, coming from the soaps and shampoo he usually used. And underneath that, he could smell her usual smells of apple, cinnamon, and a hint of chocolate. It was intoxicating, the mix of their smells. And the feel of her warm, slim body against his was something he hadn't thought would happen for a long time, if ever.

Holding her close like this was something he wished would happen for however long his life lasted.

Started 11/21/15 – Completed 11/22/15

 **A/n: I'm on a freaking roll. I'm getting really giddy about that and this story XD Also, for some reason I always think the Dursleys would be harsher and crueler on a female Harry? Dunno. And "Irs" by the Goo Goo Dolls always makes me end up writing hurt/comfort shower scenes, hahaha. I hope everyone enjoyed this and please review!**

* * *

 **Anon reviews:**

1\. Guest: Thanks for the kudos!

2\. Guest 2: Aw, thanks! And don't you worry about me continuing ;D


	16. Down and Dirty I

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Sixteen: Down and Dirty I_

When he woke up, he was still holding Harry to him. He was relaxed and content, and couldn't really be bothered to get up. But he did realize, unfortunately, Harry had school and he was supposed to talk to John Healy about taking care of Prohaszka. Given how the mobster wasn't willing to budge in the negotiations, it was time to get rid of him.

He looked for their glasses, seeing them neatly folded and placed on the nightstand next to each other where Wesley had placed them the night before. He couldn't help the brief smile crossing his face seeing them like that, thinking that it was a sight he could get used to.

Despite the time passing even more, Wesley couldn't help just lying in bed and watching Harry. Wisps of her raven hair fell onto her face, and he took his time brushing them away. Her long lashes fluttered in her sleep, and her breathing was even and calm. The rise and fall of her chest soothed him, more so as he watched her and decided this was what peaceful mornings were like. His mornings had always been bland and neutral, not something he'd cared to pay attention to before. He'd always been all about business.

Reluctantly shaking her awake, her beautiful emerald eyes slowly opened and stared up at him.

"Good morning," he murmured.

"Morning," she murmured back, giving him a sleepy lopsided grin he just wanted to keep looking at.

"It's Monday and you have school," he told her in a grumble, suddenly wishing he hadn't gotten her into it, then she could have had more time to spend with him. Selfish really, but he was feeling extremely selfish then.

She yawned slightly and stretched like a cat, and he couldn't help his eyes being drawn to the rise of her breasts as her torso arched upwards.

"What time is it?" she asked, interrupting his inappropriate thoughts.

"A little after six," he told her, and she just nodded.

"I usually wake up at this time anyway. Can I take a shower?" and he wouldn't say how disappointed he was when she'd started to move away from him and then slip off the bed, the warmth of her body leaving him.

"Sure. I'll go fetch us some breakfast and buy you a change of clothes, so you don't have to go around wearing the ones you wore yesterday," he replied, finally getting out of bed himself.

"You know you don't have to do that," Harry gave him an exasperated look.

"What? The breakfast or the clothing?" Wesley gave her a cheeky look back. At her halfhearted glare, he laughed. "It'll save us some time if I just picked something up to eat, and you really need to wear better clothing. Plus, I bet those clothes of yours are dirty from yesterday."

She grumbled, but didn't contradict him again. He put that as a point for him in their mental scoreboard.

After she'd gotten into the shower, Wesley made sure he was dressed suitably and had opened his door to find (almost like déjà vu) Wilson standing on the other side.

"Sir," he greeted in surprise. "Is everything alright?" That sounded familiar and he was starting to feel like a broken record.

Wilson gave him a thin smile. "I was just stopping by to let you know that I have already handled the Prohaszka matter, so you need not bother yourself with it," he surprised Wesley with that. "Is she…is she alright?"

For a moment, Wesley was confused. Then he realized that Wilson was talking about Harry.

"Better than last night, I suppose," he hedged. "Sir, may I ask how you knew she was here and had been upset?"

Wilson shifted uncomfortably. "She had approached the building through the normal front entrance, which meant she had to be buzzed in. Since you were not around, she asked the front desk through the intercom to contact me. I gave them permission to let her in, and also informed them to always allow her entrance for any future visit she may make," his boss tacked on.

"Thank you, sir," Wesley told him gratefully, still caught off guard and surprised by his boss' attitude towards all this and Harry. "I appreciate your help."

"I wasn't sure what to do," Wilson admitted. "She looked very upset and I didn't approach her or say anything, so just allowed her to make her way to your apartment. Though she'd waited out your door, I didn't know what else to do or say to help, and decided it was best to leave her alone."

"I had just come back from the meeting with the others and found her, so I apologize for not being able to report to you," Wesley remembered.

Wilson waved him off. "It is fine. So long as you made sure to take care of her and make her feel better from whatever it was that upset her."

Though by the look on Wilson, he'd wanted to know what that was.

"She was having family problems," Wesley admitted. "Her family aren't…the best with her."

By the darkening countenance, Wilson easily read between the lines and wasn't happy about it.

"I hope she wouldn't be staying any longer than necessary with them," Wilson frowned, and Wesley hadn't expected the implied suggestion.

The truth was that he wanted and would like to just take Harry out of there. He had the means and the ability to do so, but he also realized that just doing so left too many doors that could backfire, given how much responsibility and laws taking a minor away from their guardian would entail.

If it was legal, then if he needed to bring her to the doctors, to something that needed guardian permission, et al, then he could do all that without anything being cottoned on. In truth, the realization that he would actually and preferably have to do this the legal way had come across as a shock and an unusual solution.

But if Harry had any chance of getting out of those people's claws with no loose ends or strings attached, then it had to be done clean and irreversible.

"I'm working on it," he said to Wilson with a determined air.

Still looking unhappy about it, Wilson nodded and knew Wesley would work it out from here. He straightened up and gave Wesley an encouraging clasp on his shoulder.

"I will be attending an art gallery exposition this Friday. I think it would be good to add some decorations to my home, now that the penthouse is finally finished. If Harry feels like attending, please pass on that she is welcomed to."

While he left then, Wesley wasn't sure what to make of the invitation. Ah, well. He'd pass it on regardless.

Going back inside, he went to go looking for Harry, finding her sitting on his bed and wrapped in only a towel, gazing hard at the floor. Though the sight of her still in a towel made his stomach clench and an uncomfortable feeling passed through him, he ignored it and focused on her.

"Harry, is everything okay?"

She turned to him, eyes wide and then looking upset and slightly guilty.

"…Harry?"

"I met the Man in the Mask," she blurted out, looking at him worriedly.

Shock ran through him and he couldn't help staring at her. "Are you…are you sure?"

She bit her lip and averted her eyes to the ground again. "I was walking yesterday after I ran from home. He was in a dumpster and I brought him to his apartment when I asked where I should take him. Once I got a good look on him in his apartment, I knew it was him. I helped him, even when he was unconscious, but I didn't want to not tell you either because you're you but he's also someone you disliked and –"

"You're rambling," he said faintly, trying to think through this clearly. Looking at Harry however, he understood the dilemma. She hadn't wanted to leave the man there and be left to be in pain. But she also realized who he was, and where Wesley stood when it came to the Man in the Mask. "Harry, you know you can speak to me. Tell me what's bothering you."

Harry clasped her hands tightly, still boring a hole into the floor with her gaze. "I know he's supposed to be your enemy and all, from the sounds of it, but I couldn't just leave him there. And I had to take him somewhere, but I don't know why he actually told me where his place was. And I…didn't want to know all that because I knew you first and also Wilson, and I didn't want to keep something so important about someone you all disliked, but there was no way I couldn't _not_ tell you and just betray that trust, but –"

He came closer and sat down next to her, making her stop talking and of which she was in danger of rambling again. He was touched that she felt such loyalty to him, but was bothered to know that it was interfering (and bothering her) sense of morals.

Harry hadn't wanted to find out anything about the man in the first place, because she knew that it would be something Wesley would want to know about the enemy, and though she wouldn't want the Man in the Mask to be harmed or anything, she wouldn't be so disloyal to Wesley (even when it was just information).

Had she already reached that point for him?

Reaching for her hand, he squeezed and grabbed her attention. He gave her a resigned smile.

"Don't say anything more," he told her, taking her aback. "You don't need to say another word, and I refuse to have you be so upset over this."

Honestly, he could even bet Wilson would agree. They would not, could not, conscientiously bring Harry any closer to their world than was possible. He knew involving her any more than she should be would just taint her, and that should never happen.

"You won't be…upset?" she asked hesitantly.

"No," he said firmly. "I –and I doubt Wilson –wouldn't be overly fond of the idea of you getting yourself involved in our business in any way, and so whatever you might find out of us or with that man, you need not worry or concern yourself about it or saying it to either side."

She instantly and obviously relaxed to that. "So where's breakfast?" she asked and Wesley then felt exasperated with himself.

"Forgotten," he told her wryly. "Wilson stopped by to ask after you, and then I got distracted and went to look for you. He did invite you to an art exhibit he is going to this Friday, if you'd like to go."

She hadn't expected that, and she felt kind of curious about the event and going with Wilson to it, so she told Wesley that she would probably come then.

"Time's flown," he noticed, looking at the time. "Would you like to skip school today?"

Harry laughed and looked at him mischievously. "My, you must've been such a juvenile delinquent when you were younger."

"I still am," he said cheekily.

They burst out laughing together, and when they'd calmed down, Wesley called her school to call her in sick.

"So we're going to spend today together?" she questioned him, and the idea of spending more time with her was easily a concept he was okay with and was eager for.

"Why not? I've got time," he jibed at her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Okay, I'll get dressed…in something," she scrunched up her nose, as she realized she still didn't have anything to wear, especially given Wesley hadn't gone out like he was supposed to.

He cleared his throat and pressed his lips into a thin line, calming his heart and keeping his eyes to a respectable level.

"I have that suit you wore the other day. It's clean and pressed, so it's ready for you to wear. I'll give it to you and you can dress while I take my own shower."

He did as he said he would, handing her custom suit and then took off for his shower. If he was tempted to touch himself, it wasn't his fault if he almost caved to his baser instincts. It didn't help that he was recalling Harry's wet body wrapped only in one of his towels.

Irritable at himself, Wesley thumped his head against his shower wall.

* * *

They lay on the grass and watched the sky together. Having finished breakfast, they'd moved onto Wesley's new pack of Oreos he'd just bought.

"This isn't healthy," Harry told him. "It really isn't. You have an addiction to Oreos."

He snorted. "Are you doing an intervention? You going to send me to rehab for my Oreo addiction now?"

"Don't tempt me."

Wesley laughed aloud, and in response just snagged another Oreo to nibble on.

"My health based on my frequent consumption of Oreos may be on the line, but I would never give them up," he stubbornly, teasingly told her.

She threw an Oreo at him, but he caught it easily and started to eat it as well.

"I do recall my cake being Oreo-themed."

"Sorry, couldn't find treacle tart flavored cake anywhere."

"You're probably not sorry."

"It was a lucky break for me."

"Oreo freak."

Wesley chuckled and Harry crawled closer to him. Raising an eyebrow at her, the action only made her grin.

"You're oddly expressive, you know? For a henchman," Harry's grin grew wider.

"I am not a henchman," he protested.

She gave him the worst teasing look and he was tempted to actually pout about it. But then his phone rang and he felt annoyance creep up on him. Who dared to cut in on his time with Harry?

"Hold on," he muttered to her and looked at his Caller ID, sneering when he noticed it was Anatoly. "What is it?" he snapped into the phone, before wincing and calming himself. He was professional. He was always professional.

How the fuck was he going to be professional when his time with Harry was being interrupted and messed up because of incompetent idiots?

"It is Anatoly," a Russian accent greeted him. "We have…problem."

Wesley took a deep breath. Then a hand touched his and held it, and he looked over to see Harry pointedly focusing and looking away from him, but he appreciated the support even if she was clearly uncomfortable.

"Tell me the problem quickly," he said succinctly. "And then we'll see our options."

"There was…issue with catching Man in Black. He was taken out the night before last, but he escaped. He returned last night and somehow found out where we held boy we were luring him with."

Wesley clenched his jaw. "So the ambush basically failed." And to be honest, he kind of figured that what with Harry having told him what happened. "It's clear then that you and your brother must find another way to take care of him. If he continues, our operation could be in jeopardy."

"I…understand. I will tell Vladimir that we will catch this man some other way. We will not fail. We will get him," Anatoly said determinedly.

"Good. Make sure that you get him for sure," Wesley told the other, slightly threatening. He glanced at Harry and she gave him an unsure smile, looking discomfited. They exchanged awkward looks, with Wesley feeling especially awkward as he essentially had been on the phone ordering a hit more or less.

He ended the call and was about to turn to Harry to apologize, when his phone rang again and he cursed.

"I'm sorry," he told her quickly and answered his phone again in frustration. "This is Wesley."

"Mr. Wesley, this is John Healy," Healy spoke into the phone calmly. "I completed the job. I'm at the police precinct now."

Wesley frowned. "Was there complications?"

"The gun jammed. I hid it under the pinball machine in the bowling alley. I managed to find some other way to finish the job."

"Good. Keep this brief, don't say anymore. You know the routine. In the meantime, I will find you retainers that will do the job they need to. Keep your mouth shut there."

He hung up and prayed no one else would call, but right now his worry was more on the fact that he'd had to deal with two obviously shady calls that probably put a cramp on his time with Harry and made things extremely awkward.

"Um, that was…"

"Obviously people who put your blood pressure through the roof, huh?" Harry gave him a hesitant grin. "Want another Oreo?"

"Thank God," Wesley sighed and took it from her. "And yes, I totally need one. I feel kind of stressed out."

Harry gave him a sympathetic smile, before he scooted closer to her and she let him lean on her.

* * *

Nelson and Murdock had been his first choice. They were new, clean, and local boys of the area. Their history was impressive, graduating cum laude and summa cum laude, and interning formerly at Landman and Zack.

He admitted that he'd started a file on the firm, because he'd been looking to law firms that he could use in his agenda to get Harry free from out of the Dursleys' guardianship. If he wanted any firm associated with Harry's case, much less Harry herself, he wanted nice, clean lawyers that wouldn't bother her and would make sure the case wasn't open to any kind of loopholes because shortcuts and dirty methods had been used.

Of course, he had to take care of something first.

"Hey…why are we in a bowling alley?" Harry whispered to him.

"Maybe I felt like bowling," he said in an extremely dry tone.

She hit his arm and he couldn't hide his smirk.

"I need to retrieve something," he said honestly instead.

"Is it something I should keep my nose out of now?" she asked hesitantly.

Wesley frowned at the expression. "You're welcome to know anything, and you don't have to feel like you have to 'keep your nose out of it.' If it does indeed bother you though, you can wait for me in the car."

Harry bit her lip, but shook her head. She threaded her arm around his and he led the way to the pinball machine that was taken up by two guys. Standing nearby, Wesley came a little closer, drawing their attention.

"Wait your turn, old man," one of them sneered at him, and normally Wesley would ignore it and brush it off uncaringly, but considering Harry was there and it was said in front of her…

He did _not_ want to think about the fact he was older than her, and that he could be considered an old man next to her.

Wesley forcibly made himself calmly place a quarter onto the machine.

"Next," he said simply, and stood back with Harry.

He felt her squeeze his arm and looked down at her. She gave him a reassuring smile and leaned up on her toes to whisper to him.

"I don't think you're old at all," she quietly told him. "They're just some jealous pricks."

He infinitely felt better and managed to smile back at her. Jealous pricks indeed.

He was suitably smug when the two, when leaving, tossed him jealous looks as he kept Harry close to him.

"Will you do me a favor and help me out?" he murmured to her.

"Yeah?" she asked nervously.

"I'm going to lean you against the pinball machine and press up against you. You're going to subtly reached down behind you, under the pinball machine, and feel for a gun. Grab it and hand it to me discreetly. Is that alright?" he continued to murmur.

"Okay," Harry looked up at him with wide eyes.

And then he was maneuvering her closer to the pinball machine and leaning her against it. He hesitated before he closed the distance, and pressed the front of his body against hers. Gripping the pinball machine on either side of her, he couldn't help dipping his face closer to hers. It was easy to see her audibly gulp, and his eyes focused in on the way her lips trembled slightly.

He'd almost startled when the cold, metal side of a gun pressed against his side, and he reluctantly grabbed onto it and pulled away.

"We should get back to the car," he sighed and led the way, slipping the gun into his waistband and hiding it behind his suit jacket.

If he really was going to commit to a year of waiting, he really should stop damning himself with these kind of moments.

Started 11/24/15 – Completed 11/24/15

 **A/n: ...I'm probably going to update again on Friday too XD I'm seriously on a roll, so I hope everyone enjoyed this. I may or may not introduce lemons later on (shrugs). In any case, please review!**

* * *

 **Anon reviews:**

1\. Guest: Thank you! Please continue to enjoy~


	17. Down and Dirty II

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Seventeen: Down and Dirty II_

He was still in pain, but it was more of a dull ache. Whatever that woman had done, he'd miraculously healed and wasn't in as much pain as he'd thought he'd be. It was…amazing. Though he hadn't meant to reveal his apartment, delirious in pain as he had been before, somehow and for some reason she hadn't revealed it to anyone, despite the fact he knew she probably figured out he was the masked vigilante running around.

"I'd like a coffeemaker," Foggy said out of nowhere.

His lips quirked up.

"When we get money, I'd like to buy a coffeemaker. Right after we buy a nice sign for the office. Right, Matt?"

Matt Murdock could only think his best friend had some merit to his thoughts. One, a coffeemaker would be nice –he was feeling the need for some coffee (just not one with Father Lantom…). And a nice sign would make their small, bare office just the slightest spruced up.

"Nelson and Murdock," Foggy was probably grinning. "It'll look all fancy smancy, and maybe we'll get some customers to think we're worth a look at."

Their new secretary, working practically for free, giggled slightly at Foggy.

"Ah come on, Karen," Foggy was pouting. "You've got to admit I'm right –"

A particular pattern of knocks sounded on their door and Matt frowned to himself, while the other two gave each other looks.

"Was that…a knock? For us?" Foggy asked incredulously.

"I believe it was," Matt murmured. "Ms. Page? If you will?"

"Y-yes, of course," Karen went towards the door and opened it, and Matt heard two sets of feet enter.

Foggy almost wanted to make a quip about Matt needing to keep away from the very pretty girl that entered with the man, but seeing the way the two were in the first place, even Matt's blind charm probably wouldn't work. He'd have to find a time to make fun of Matt for that later. Preferably out of hearing range of the sharply dressed man the girl was with.

"Hi. Do you do walk-ins?"

* * *

It had been…slightly awkward and tense as they left the bowling alley together and headed to Wesley's car.

To be honest, Harry hadn't really known what the hell that was.

She knew exactly what he was going to do, per his words to her beforehand…but there was just a different air as it actually happened, and her skin felt electrified. She could feel the line of his lean body pressed up against hers, and the intense way he'd looked at her had stopped her breath.

She was almost disappointed when she'd found the gun and had given it to him, and he'd pulled away.

"Where are we going next?" she asked, hiding her thoughts about the matter.

"A small law firm called Nelson and Murdock. They're new," he told her. Then he frowned. "I'm sorry I ended up doing business while you're here."

"I understand," she reassured him. "It's important, right? So it's okay. At least I look the part of your partner," she grinned slightly.

"That you do," he murmured, giving her a look she couldn't help blushing at.

"So can I know more?" Harry asked, slightly curious.

Wesley hesitated. "Do you _want_ to know more?"

At that, Harry paused. Did she? It also meant that this was part of his shady business dealings with Wilson, and may not be something she wanted to get into.

But then she remembered the war that was still ranging back in Europe, and she remembered some of the things Peasegood had told her about the last war and the things he had to do and what he still did.

She also remembered that she'd used the Cruciatus Curse against Bellatrix, and then wondered what other things she would need to do or end up doing once the war escalated and she left here.

Leaving here…

She looked at Wesley and imagined leaving him, and that put a surprisingly strong protest and ache in her heart.

In any case, Harry had to be willing to dip her hands into mud sooner or later, and at least this was slow-going and not as threatening and harmful to her health.

"Sure. Hit me with your best shot," she gave him a shaky grin.

He frowned even more at her, but didn't push. "They're a clean law firm –new and made up of two locals of Hell's Kitchen. The client I want them to represent is a man named John Healy, a professional hitman. It's important they represent him because of how new and clean they are. They need not know who Healy really is, and it's probably best that way."

"What he'd do?" she asked hesitantly, though she had a hint. Peasegood was a Hit Wizard, and though he was definitely more on the legal end, he and his kind still aggressively attacked their enemies. Plus, she knew what a hitman was.

"We'd been attempting negotiating with a mobster named Prohaszka," she remembered his name being brought up many times by Wesley and Wilson. "Prohaszka wasn't willing to budge on territories and business, so Wilson had me contact Healy and set up the hit. Or I was supposed to," he cleared his throat in embarrassment.

"You didn't?" she asked in surprise. "Why not?"

"I was…a little busy with you," he admitted after a moment. "Wilson took care of that himself."

That made her freeze up and stare at him, red staining her cheeks. She hadn't realized how much she'd been distracting him from his work.

"Is he, um, upset with you about that?"

Thankfully, Wesley shook his head and even had a small smile on his face. "No, actually. He was quite firm that I make sure you were okay."

Her heart warmed a little more towards Wesley's boss.

"Just try to refrain from mentioning anything about your relatives to him," Wesley winced. "I might have hinted about them to him in answer about why you'd turned up at my door last night, and he wasn't happy about that. With his temper, he might be prone to just…coming over and killing them himself," he uncomfortably revealed.

Harry gave him a wide-eyed look he shrugged at. That was his boss for you.

"Ah, we're here," he noticed the small dingy building. "I believe they're located in a room here."

Harry scrunched up her eyebrows. "Are they really a law firm? They don't look it."

"Small and new," he reminded her. "And broke," he added as an afterthought, remembering researching their current financial status.

They went out of his car and he led the way up the building to where they stood in front of a handmade paper sign with someone having written "Nelson and Murdock" with probably a permanent marker. She bit her lip to keep herself from laughing, but looking up at Wesley showed that he was amused as well.

Wesley knocked then, though she had to shake her head at the way he knocked.

'Really?' she mouthed at him.

He gave her a smirk, right before the door opened and Wesley's smirk easily turned into a professional smile.

"Hi. Do you do walk-ins?" Wesley asked good-naturedly.

The two of them walked in, and Harry couldn't help her attention being drawn with the man with the cane and sunglasses, deducting he was blind. Still, that wasn't what got her attention. Something about him seemed familiar.

They were led to their consultation room, where she sat next to Wesley on the opposite side of the young lawyers and their secretary. Wesley then started in on his spiel, and she was impressed with how smooth and succinct he was.

However, for some reason the blind lawyer seemed reticent and even rather suspicious. When the man kept asking for Wesley's name and why them, Harry bit her lip and decided to interrupt.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I don't mean to interrupt, but my senior colleague likes to keep things brief and professional. I'm Harry, his intern. James is my senior and I'm the one who suggested your firm."

Attention was drawn to her, especially Wesley's. Even though he looked calm, his eyes were hesitant. She gave a small smile to him.

"I thought…I thought it would be a good idea for our employer to look into sponsoring smaller firms and promote them. I ran across your firm and did some research, and thought you guys were perfect for it, especially as James said –your history is impressive."

The blond lawyer practically preened at that, giving her a friendly grin.

"Ah, we didn't introduce ourselves either," he said. "I'm Franklin Nelson, but call me Foggy seeing like we might be working together."

"I'm Matt Murdock," the other murmured, though he had a strange look on his face. Harry didn't know why, but she hoped it wasn't because of what she'd done.

Looking to the secretary, she also introduced herself. "I'm Karen Page."

"Now with introductions finally out of the way," Wesley said, tone almost dry. He looked to her, amusement clear in his eyes. "I hope you don't mind if I let my intern handle this. It'll be good practice for her."

He handed her an envelope that she had no idea what was inside. Glancing at it, she wasn't sure what to do then. She watched as Wesley looked at the duo, ignoring the secretary as he smiled rather smugly and…also kind of dorkily. She had to clamp down on her jaws to keep from giggling, because sometimes Wesley just made the damnedest expressions, like he did just now. Maybe it had something to do with his eyes closing as he smiled indulgently, but it was actually one of the cutest things she'd seen.

"Go on, Harry. Start off with our employer's offer," he looked to her and she panicked slightly.

What was she supposed to say or do next? But then she saw Wesley discreetly rub his fingers at her, and she relaxed and got it.

She smiled widely and slid the envelope towards the lawyers.

"You'll be compensated for everything of course," she said brightly.

Foggy took the envelope tentatively and opened it, taking out the check that was inside. His eyes widened.

"Oh. Wow."

"We believe that as a large corporation it's important to keep our options open when regarding who we choose to represent us, and give fair representation to the startups struggling to find work in New York, especially in Hell's Kitchen and in light of the recent…alien invasion," Wesley ended as he played along with her and then handed out a manila folder, his fingers elegantly and firmly curving as they placed the folder on the table and pushed it towards the lawyers.

Harry noticed it was something he did, because he'd done the same with the quarter back in the bowling alley on the pinball machine…

She liked his hands and the way they moved. Wait…did she…have a fetish for his hands?

She really hoped her face was normal then, because she didn't want to look strange or be blushing in front of everyone. That would be hard to explain…

Wesley was looking at her and gestured subtly to the folder, and she cleared her throat.

"You could look over one of our cases before deciding?" Harry continued warmly, still smiling at the group.

"Yeah, we could do that," Matt spoke up then, decisively taking the folder himself, though she wondered how he knew where it was on the table.

"Perfect," Wesley interrupted. "You have," and for some reason he took a look at his watch. "38 minutes to get to Precinct 15."

Even Harry was surprised at that, glancing at him and trying to hide her shock.

"What? Now? What's the case?" Foggy sounded like he'd been caught off guard. Harry didn't blame him.

Wesley stood up and helped her up as well. "Everything you need to know is in this file," he gestured to the folder.

"Thank you for your time," Matt said neutrally.

"No. Thank you," Wesley replied, plastering another of his professional smiles before taking a hold of her and leaving, closing the door just as they heard Foggy try to say "Thank you very –" and was cut off by the door.

They were at his car before he said anything to her, which made her nervous and hoping she hadn't upset him or stepped out of bounds.

"That was…rather well done," his lips twitched up as he glanced at her in amusement. "I should take you along more."

Sheepishly, she grinned and shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't mess anything up?"

"No. In fact, I think it was just the opposite. Seatbelt on, Harry," he said as he started the car.

"Right," she remembered and turned to grab her seatbelt, but caught sight of a familiar man cautiously "watching" some ways away. She wondered why Matt Murdock had followed them out, and how had he. But seeing him just standing there, Harry guessed that maybe he hadn't wanted to say anything to them after all.

"Harry? Seatbelt?"

She put on the seatbelt quickly and then flashed Wesley a quick smile. Perhaps that was just nothing.

He started the car and began to drive off, and Harry made herself comfortable in his car. She noticed that he drove more and didn't use his chauffeured suburban limo as often, and it was kind of nice because it was just the two of them and all.

"I'm sorry the day became like this," he sighed softly, speaking all of a sudden. She watched him closely. "I don't really want you getting involved. As well done as you were back there, especially against someone as surprisingly suspicious and reticent as that Murdock, as I said before, I'd prefer not to drag you into my world, Harry."

"As uncomfortable as I am with all this," Harry admitted. "I don't think I should keep myself ignorant and be able to learn some things that maybe useful, or at least see how to recognize some stuff. So I really don't mind, and you don't have to protect me from all this."

Driving to a stop because of a red light, the two of them stared at each other with frowns and refused to budge. That is until Wesley conceded slightly.

"You can involve yourself to your liking, but if I swear it's too much, you back down," he said inflexibly.

"Fine. And I swear that I'll just stay in the car, like I told you before, if I just don't want to be involved."

The thing is, part of the reason she was so adamant on hanging around and even helping him was because she had come to like being around him and just wanted to be around him so much. He'd even kept the nightmares at bay, and it'd been so long since she hadn't dreamt of Sirius falling through the Veil and Cedric falling lifelessly to the ground. She knew those dreams would come back, but Wesley seemed to be able to keep them away for the most part.

So if she felt like practically clinging to him and following him around, even when he was at work, then at least her ghosts could settle down and she could be around someone she really liked.

Who else would she be around anyway? She was alone and lonely, and she would never choose being around the Dursleys over anyone. And what would she do? Yes, there was school now. But a part of her felt rather useless being there, when she could be doing something else for the war effort. As much as she'd come to like it and feeling rather normal for once, she tended to get restless a lot while there.

There was only so much she could do to train, and there wasn't a place for her to train anyway. And she didn't have the materials to learn new things (but she now knew that mall, so she could at least now get them herself). But…

She blinked.

Looking to Wesley, she was going to say something when the light turned green and Wesley started to drive again.

"Hey, Wesley," she said anyway, and she gained his attention while he drove. "Could you teach me how to shoot a gun?"

She could see that he hadn't expected that and that his knee almost jerked. The car only minutely swerve, not enough to be noticed by anyone, but she did.

"Why would you…" he started to ask, but then looked over at her and pressed his lips together. After a few studious glances at her, he nodded his agreement. "Alright. Would you want to start now?"

"Could we?" she perked up in her seat.

She wondered how well guns would do against a Death Eater? They were kind of slow after all (Death Eaters that is) and it would be useful to use it against them.

Wesley started to drive in a different direction than his apartment complex, and she wondered where he was heading. Then, soon enough, they'd stopped in front of a building. From there, he'd parked and then got out of the car to head to her side and help her out.

"For future reference, if you are going to be my 'intern,' I wouldn't be 'James' and you wouldn't be 'Harry,'" he smirked at her, teasing about that part. "But as you _were_ an intern and young at that, I believe it was just your 'inexperience' showing."

She blushed slightly, but only gave a slight glare. "My apologies, _Mr._ _Wesley_."

He laughed outright. "Come along then, _Miss Potter_."

Wesley crooked his arm and she placed her hands on it, and then he was leading her into what she realized was a gun range. It was empty at the moment, though she did wonder when and who usually filled the place.

"My men usually train here," he disclosed to her quietly. "Let me choose a firearm for you and we can start, alright?"

She nodded as he left her in front of a target. He came back with a gun just slightly smaller than the one they'd retrieved from the bowling alley.

"It has less of a kick to it, so you should be able to handle the recoil," he told her as he reached her side. "Maybe once you start getting used to it and build up a resistance in your arms, you can handle the more powerful ones."

He positioned himself behind her and held out the gun. Then one of his hands gripped one of hers and brought it up to it, before repeating with her other hand. With his arms around her, his hands on her, and he standing right up against her, Harry was (supposed to be uncomfortably) aware of him and his person.

"Turn off the safety," he'd whispered into her ear, and she couldn't hold back a shiver. "Pull down the hammer. And then press down on the trigger."

She shot the gun immediately, her hands jerking slightly and the shot missing the target entirely. Thankfully, her hands hadn't jerked too much because of Wesley holding them down. But really, it was hard to focus and he really shouldn't be standing so close to her…

He moved his head back slightly and raised an eyebrow at her, but she just flushed red. But a small smirk started playing on his lips, and soon enough he'd moved even closer to her, practically embracing her from behind.

"You should concentrate," he murmured into her ear, and she could feel his breath against her skin.

"You're making it hard to," she croaked, biting down on her lip.

He chuckled lowly in her ear, and she could practically feel his smirk, even if she couldn't see it.

"…Good."

And then he had her fire off another shot, hitting bullseye.

Started 11/26/15 – Completed 11/27/15

 **A/n: Tut tut, Wesley. Keep your hands to yourself XD Geez, this was supposed to conclude this episode, but I guess it turned into a three parter. Saw more Matt (and even Foggy!) and was tempted to leave Karen out of this, lol. Anyway, please enjoy this and remember to review! Late Happy Thanksgiving from here America! I'm so thankful for you guys!**

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 **Quick Points:**

1\. Vanessa: Will probably come in next chapter or the chapter after (most probably).

2\. Wesley's habits: I'm not joking. Watch this episode again and watch the way he uses his hands. He moves them very specifically XD Watch "Rabbit in a Snowstorm" and focus on the pinball machine scene and when he meets with Foggy and Matt. In fact, when watch him meeting with Foggy and Matt, focus on his face too, hahaha! Thank you, Tumblr, for catching his varied sassy expressions. The one I'm talking about specifically: 33dotmediadottumblrdotcomslasha56a184bba0f3d2e9efc89f2fbb4e6afslashtumblr_nna0iiMCgR1rh6vdno3_400dotgif

* * *

 **Anon reviews:**

1\. Guest: Glad to make your day! Hope to make it again :D And poor Wesley all around. The countdown for him has begun and the year is going too slow XD

2\. maru: Glad to see you back! Hope to keep you interested~


	18. Down and Dirty III

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Eighteen: Down and Dirty III_

Wesley sat down just as Wilson poured them a glass of brandy. He waited for Wilson to pass him his glass and sat down before he began to talk.

"It…went well," he started the conversation.

"Did it? Good. I know you suggested them, but I wasn't so sure about hiring a couple of young, inexperienced lawyers for this," Wilson gave a pleased hum.

"They're clean and local, which will work for us," Wesley said surely. "Although to be honest, I think it would have gone much harder had Harry not been with me."

Wilson looked at him in surprise. "Harry was with you?"

"Yes," Wesley winced. "She had school, but I just called her in sick and we were hanging around when I got the call from Healy. She helped me retrieved the gun that could have linked Healy to cold-blooded murder, and then to the Nelson and Murdock office."

At Wilson's frown, he quickly continued. "I know it would be preferable to keep her away from this, but she promised to keep out of it when I say so and when she feels too uncomfortable."

Wilson reluctantly accepted that. "So why did it go much easier with her around?"

"Along with one of them being extremely suspicious and reticent to accept our case, my usual aggressive, no-nonsense, and strictly professional style was rubbing that one wrong and somehow raising his suspicions. Harry's presence and interference managed to put the meeting off-kilter and bring in a friendlier atmosphere," Wesley noted. "She introduced herself as my intern and was casual and friendly about things."

He explained how, though he'd initially hadn't planned on giving any real reason as to choosing them aside from researching a bunch of firms on behalf of his "employer" (who wanted to keep an open list of "retainers") and had purposely kept out his name, Harry's interference had transformed the entire thing into a more relatable, much more charitable event, and less random as it initially would have been seen as. He'd avoided his name because he was trying to be brief and professional. He'd wanted to get down to business. That was all it had been.

Harry had all but excused his behavior to them as such, and then provided the explanations in a logical, friendly matter, acting the part of the inexperienced intern well –partly on purpose and partly not, for though she meant to play his intern, she really had been inexperienced and it had shown. And _their_ firm came up and was chosen because she'd been the eager one, looking for firms for a charitable cause for her company, and found theirs and liked theirs the best. He expanded and played along with that, putting emphasis on the struggling businesses that needed help and their company was hoping to provide, especially after the alien invasion had made things more difficult for the city and for people to pick themselves back up.

"That's good," Wilson nodded slowly, thinking it over. "So it all worked out in the end…Speaking of Harry, however…The art exhibit is formal wear. Does she have anything she can wear to it, if she's going?"

"She accepts your invitation," Wesley informed him. "As for formal wear…I doubt it. She doesn't have much in the way of clothes, most of them hand me downs from her cousin. Her male and obese cousin," his nose wrinkled.

Wilson's jaw clenched and Wesley could see his boss' hands form fists as well.

"Not to worry. I did, as you would know since you found out about her through them, provide the summer dresses for her to wear," Wesley reminded him, cooling Wilson's temper a bit. "She still wouldn't have formal wear, but she does have new and nicer things to wear now. I'll probably have to find a way to get her more clothing, probably some regular stuff like shirts and trousers," he mused aloud at the end.

"Trousers?" Wilson gave him a strange look.

At that, Wesley realized what he said and started to laugh. "She's British and now I'm starting to sound like her. Pants, sir, I mean. I'm sorry –I've been hanging around her a lot."

Wilson smiled slightly. "I see. And you really have. In any case, I'll just have Melvin either make her something or have him go out to find her something. And, gathering from the sundresses you've gotten her, that he knows her measurements already?"

At Wesley's confirmation, Wilson was nodding again. Then he paused and gave Wesley another strange look.

"How would you…have known her measurements?"

Wesley made a rather strangled noise in his throat, averting his eyes from his employer. Why'd that question have to pop up, and now of all times? And with Wilson?

"Like I said, I hang around her a lot," Wesley uncomfortably muttered. At Wilson's hard stare, Wesley sighed. "I stare at her. A lot. Even back then."

That caused a very awkward moment to occur between the two of them, and Wesley was stubbornly glaring at the floor in embarrassment.

"So what happened at the meeting with the lawyers? It sounds like they got hired, and the two of you celebrated?" Wilson attempted to change the subject.

"She asked me to teach her how to shoot a gun."

Wilson stared at him in bemusement and Wesley shrugged. But remembering it, a huge and very smug grin plastered itself across his mouth.

"You look suddenly pleased with yourself," Wilson observed in amusement.

"Completely," Wesley practically crowed out. "I saw and am completely pleased at the effect I have on Harry, and that I have one on her at all."

Curious, Wilson straightened up and waited for his subordinate, who proceeded to tell him all about it. If Wesley sounded like he was boasting, then…well, how can he not be happy that he had such a strong effect and pull on Harry, when he'd thought he was the only one of the two to be so deeply affected by the other?

"Congratulations, Wesley," Wilson congratulated him. "Reciprocation is a powerful and beloved thing. Good for you that you can see how much she also is affected."

His boss, though, sounded a little wistful. Wesley noticed it quickly and felt sympathetic, but kept it to himself. He wished and hoped Wilson would find his match soon. Though on that thought…

Harry as his match…That was…completely and utterly true at this point.

He didn't feel at all bad about that.

* * *

Matt stood in front of a mirror, even though there was no need for it. His hands slowly but nimbly began to string his tie up around his neck, though his thoughts were on anything but it.

The woman who'd saved him, now hearing her clearer, was definitely younger than he'd thought. Still one of, if not the most, beautiful voices he'd heard, but definitely young sounding. Late teens, early twenties?

Never mind that.

He hadn't been relaxed as the two came in, with the man setting off his suspicions from the beginning for some reason. There was something in his demeanor that was overly smug and arrogant, and he'd just felt something was off. He couldn't detect a presence of any lie in him, but that was because the man ('James' he remembered her calling him) had been very strict and to the point, ignoring anything personal or any information that could be considered so. And that wasn't to count the man might have known how to keep himself calm and unflustered, even when lying. His ability to detect lies was like a lie detector –it only worked when on those who were incapable of controlling themselves and their emotions, and were easy reads.

But then _she'd_ cut in, and he had recognized her voice instantly. It was the woman – _girl_ –who'd saved him and somehow fixed him up (the more he was thinking about it now, he wondered about that because he knew he at least had a broken rib or two that felt nothing after he'd been healed). And then he'd become confused and not sure what to think.

She'd sounded eager and sincere, just like the inexperienced intern she was supposed to be. He had known himself and Foggy (and even Marci before she became a fast-witted top lawyer) to be excitable interns back at Landman and Zack.

In contrast to her colleague, she seemed sincere and nice and very open. Her panic at times, her hesitation, and times she wasn't sure all showed and corroborated her role as an intern and an inexperienced one at that. It was things he and Foggy had similarly experienced in those days, and sounded to be a normal reaction for her to give out, especially given that this was most probably her first assignment (or at least first important assignment). Even her mistake of calling herself and her colleague by their first names pointed to that (and he was impressed and relieved that 'James' hadn't rebuked her for that right then and didn't seem oddly to mind the blunder; Marci had done something similar and had been chewed out and embarrassed right then and there).

All suspicions would have normally been erased. It was just gut instinct that was still telling him something was off, along with the fact that he needed to talk to her and find out about her, as well why had she helped him and why had she kept quiet about who he was. She also hadn't seemed to really recognize him, which confirmed to him that she hadn't looked under his mask, even though she had the chance to when he'd passed out on her. He also knew she'd stayed awhile at least in his apartment, because he opened his television sometime later to listen to the news, and found the channel had been on the Smithsonian Channel instead. He'd been amused that she'd clearly been watching on his TV.

And so, following them outside, he'd kept his attention to them and tried to listen in. 'James' hadn't spoken a word until they were in the car, but when he did, he hadn't talked down to her, rebuked her for her mistake earlier, or put her down in any way. Most internships like this had the senior colleague usually looking down on the intern, even when they'd done something well, but this man had sincerely and even warmly praised her, and dare he say even sounded fond. In fact, though the statement would have seemed normal in regular circumstances, the fact he'd reminded her to put on her seatbelt (and continued to call her by name, and not just as he had earlier in the office to keep her mistake minimally noticed) showed a more personal connection.

A knock on his door, followed by Foggy announcing himself, had him moving towards his door to find Foggy.

"Ready to go, Matt?" Foggy cheerfully said. "Geeze, I still can't believe we're representing this guy. I repeat, he totally sounds like a professional criminal and I am totally confuzzled how that sweet, pretty girl is associated with him." Neither did Matt either. "Which, by the way, I swear to you –finally! –this time there's a pretty female that won't be swept off her feet by your blind charm."

"Is that right?" Matt asked in amusement, moving out his door and locking it behind him.

"Duh –she's totally taken by that guy. You know, her boss."

And that clicked in his head. That's why the two's relationship made him focus and wonder on it a bit –it felt strangely personal, because it _was_ personal.

"I see," he murmured.

He had a lot to think about.

* * *

Harry was anxious to get out of school. She wanted to go to the trial and see how it worked out. It sounded like it was going to be a quick one, somehow, so since she'd helped on Monday and it was Friday now, they were hoping to finish up the case today. She at least wanted to attend what was supposed to be the last day of the trial since she hadn't been able to before.

When school got out, like always Wesley was there to pick her up, casually leaning against his car as he waited for her.

"I managed to take a peek of the trial earlier in the week. It's looking good," he told her calmly. Still, he'd been tempted to make sure it went his way and extort the jury if he had to…He'd stayed his hand because a part of him actually believed this would go through and that he knew Harry would be upset if he did. It wasn't too late anyway…

"Great! I had a feeling about those two," she told him, feeling excited. "And you know, I actually have fantastic intuition," she told him smugly, because that was usually true.

He chuckled at her and then started his car. Moments later, they ended up in the courtroom, seated in the back of the room. It probably looked odd, considering she was wearing her normal, baggy clothing…but she had come straight from school after all. And he hadn't had time to get her clothes ready.

"What's going on?" she squirmed next to him.

She wasn't sure what was happening, considering the only experience she had with law cases had been the summer before her fifth year, where she'd been tried herself. And though it was supposed to be just for the infraction of underage magic usage, she _had_ been tried as a criminal and in a full criminal hearing.

"The trial is almost finished," he informed her, and she was sad that she'd missed most of it. "They're about to do their closing arguments."

At least that she could listen to. She sat up in her chair and leaned forward, and when Matt Murdock stood up and began to talk (after a very strange, long pause), she was amazed and impressed to listen to him. He was good at what he did.

"He's amazing," she whispered to Wesley, when Matt was done.

Wesley coughed slightly and gave her what he would never admit was a pout. "I'm amazing too, right?"

She snorted and gave him an amused look. "You are," she said fondly. "But stop fishing for compliments."

He gave her a sharkish grin. "Never," he swore.

Harry slightly elbowed his side, but he refused to stop grinning.

"The art exhibit is tonight," he reminded her as he led her out of the courtroom. "It's formal wear, but I have a dress ready for you to wear."

Honestly, there was no need to stay and hear the verdict. He was confident in the lawyers and if not…he had his ways of knowing what was going on in the jury room, and he could always have a break be suggested in time so that he could have things take cared of.

"Do I have to get ready now?" she asked him curiously.

"Well, I was hoping you would have late lunch/early dinner with me first," his grin lightened into a soft smile for her.

"I'd like that," she agreed without hesitation, returning his smile.

They reached his car and he took no time in reaching his apartment, where he had her dress ready. It was a simple black halter dress, and reached all the way to her ankles.

"Black is classic," he told her smugly. "I've got shoes to match it, though I hope you don't mind that they're heels. They're kitten heels though, so they're not too high."

"Can I take a shower first?" she scrunched up her nose. "After school, I feel icky. And if I'm going to wear something as nice as that and then go to nice places, I really don't want to smell or anything."

"Sure," he said easily, but as always it was hard for him to let her go off and shower in his home. His control was continuously tested by her.

However, soon enough she reappeared to him in the dress and he had to stare in wonder again. She was always so beautiful, no matter what she wore. Though those glasses…

He'd never said anything before, but those ugly, circular glasses didn't do her face justice and tended to obstruct her pretty eyes.

"Heels?" she asked wryly and held out her hand for them with a roll of her eyes.

"What? Don't want me to place them on you?" he grinned teasingly.

Seeing her blush brought immense satisfaction to him, and he purposely held the heels away until she sat down on his couch, and he went over to kneel before her. He looked up at her, and he knew that they were both reminded of the night of her birthday. Just as carefully as he had then, he placed the simple black heels on her feet.

"Don't make it a habit," though the words were supposed to tease, she'd whispered them and it brought a different air to them.

He inhaled deeply and forced himself to stand up. "I also have some jewelry for you."

"You didn't have to," she frowned.

"It only fits with the outfit. It would look strange for you to seem so bare. You have Wilson's bracelet, but I have earrings and a necklace I'd like you to wear. They're simple and not outrageous, so don't worry."

"It's still a lot," she muttered, but didn't protest anymore.

He went and retrieved the jewelry boxes, and revealed first the diamond earrings that had her staring dazed at.

"Can I put them on you?" he asked quietly and she nodded hesitantly.

"You're going to end up dressing me someday, if you keep at it," she joked weakly.

He put one diamond earring on and then went for the other.

"No. I'd prefer to be undressing you," he said frankly.

He could hear her breath hitch, and it never got old with him. He wanted to hear it hitch so many times, in so many ways. He wanted to always be the cause of it.

"This is also for you," he murmured and revealed the matching diamond necklace that he placed around her neck.

"You really are too much," but she stopped him from moving away and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

This time though, he kept her from moving and held her to him, letting him savor her lips a bit longer.

Just as she started to pull away and he let her, he asked her, "If I asked, would you let me kiss you?"

They traded long looks that continued to up the tension between them. And, if he wasn't mistaken, they were slowly leaning into each other.

Only to be cut off by the knock on the door. Wesley softly cursed and glared at his door. Of all the times…

He went to his door and irritably opened it, immediately schooling his face into a neutral mask as he saw his boss there.

"Wilson? You're quite early," Wesley's tone was questioning.

"Was I? I apologize. I was not sure when to come and see to Harry," Wilson smiled warmly at him.

Still, Wesley couldn't help being exasperated. He glanced back at Harry and inwardly sighed.

"We were going to have dinner first, before I handed her off to you," Wesley said reluctantly. "Would you…would you like to come with us?"

"That would be quite lovely," Wilson accepted.

And if the three of them sat in the restaurant Wesley took Harry to for her birthday, and things seemed slightly awkward as they sat around a table, with Harry and Wilson discussing mundane topics like how was her school and what kind of art was Wilson looking to see…

Then that was just what had happened.

' _Wilson, why are you such a cockblocker?'_ he thought irritably.

* * *

The Scene Contempo Gallery was very modern and contemporary, just from the outside. Harry was rather impressed, but what would she know? She wasn't really an art person, or had gone to one of these before.

"You're not coming?" she asked Wesley when she realized he'd stayed back with the car.

He gave a small smile and shook his head. "I have business I must take care of tonight. But don't worry, Wilson will take care of you."

"I'm sure of that," she said, but then paused before awkwardly continuing. "I guess I'll…miss you?"

His smile grew bigger and warmed as he took a step towards her and grabbed her hands. "I will miss you too," he murmured.

She swallowed heavily and gave him a fond look, and Wilson stepped closer to them. Wesley smiled at his boss and handed Harry's hands over to him, and then took a step back.

"Enjoy yourselves. If I do not attend later to come along and pick you up, I will have Francis make sure to bring you two home. Goodbye."

And then Wesley settled back into his car and drove off after another look to them.

"He loves you, you know. I've never seen him like this with anyone, or even seen him care to be like this," Wilson startled her, but it was his words that made her really straighten. "I doubt he's even said it aloud, much less to you…but this isn't just lust or attraction. Not even infatuation. He's…he's in love with you," Wilson stated again simply.

Harry bit her lip, but gave him a wide smile with her emerald eyes twinkling brightly. It made Wilson's breath catch and he definitely could see how and why Wesley could have gotten so involved with this girl. One day, he'd like to see someone in this same light…

"I know," and she did because he could see the knowing look in her eyes. "I know."

The two of them shared a smile, and then Wilson offered his arm and then led her inside.

For a while, the two of them browsed the art gallery, and looked at the various paintings and different styles of art. At one point, they came across a painting that carried different gradations of white, and for some reason it caught Wilson's attention.

"Remind you of something?" she guessed sadly. She didn't know why, but she could just tell.

He looked down at her, with his own sad smile. "Yes. Some very sad memories, is all."

Harry accidentally caught sight of a beautiful woman who kept glancing over to them, and Harry patted Wilson's arm in commiseration.

"I understand. Just don't get caught up in the past," she told him wisely, which made him blink. "I'll be back."

She left him and he went back to stare at the painting. Instead, she headed over to the lovely lady that had obviously been watching them awhile.

"Hello," she greeted the woman, who straightened up and offered a professional smile.

"Hello," she greeted back. "I'm Vanessa Marianna. I'm in charge of this gallery. Was there something I could help you with?"

Harry glanced over at Wilson before looking to Vanessa. "You wanted to talk to him, didn't you?"

"What do you mean?" Vanessa's professional smile faltered. "I –I'm not sure I'm understanding your meaning."

"Go talk to him," Harry encouraged instead.

The older female became slightly flustered. "But…weren't you with him?"

"He's a good friend," Harry told her. "And I think he'd like it if you went to talk to him."

After a moment's more hesitation, Vanessa nodded and gave her a tentative smile before she walked towards Wilson, becoming more confident with each step.

Harry watched the two of them by the painting and wondered where and what Wesley was doing.

* * *

If Matt was reticent about their success, then it would only be because of who John Healy really was. Even though he'd managed to get a name out of the man after the trial (though unfortunately resulting in the man killing himself), he was reluctant to be celebrating with Foggy about the success in the case.

But then he heard the familiar ticking of a certain man's watch, and looked at the door intently, ignoring Foggy pouring them both another glass of wine. Once again, 'James' knocked his ridiculous pattern of knocks, and the two of them looked to the door.

"Please don't tell me it's that guy already," Foggy muttered wide-eyed at the door.

Since Karen had been sent home already, Foggy was the one to stride forward and open the door to reveal the man they had just dealt a case for, on behalf of his "company."

"Hello, I apologize for the late visit," he stepped in after Foggy stepped aside. "And congratulations on the case today. It was a job well done."

And Matt knew he'd been there, because he'd heard the man's watch and had even heard his voice. He'd heard _her_ voice too, and hadn't expected that. More importantly, he heard their conversation that had practically confirmed a few things for him. The way the two spoke to each other was casual, too casual, to be just (at least) senior colleague and intern. Matt couldn't help being amused at her complimenting words towards him, but (though still amused) the other man's response had surprised him and confirmed their casual relationship, if the man had sounded slightly jealous and yet also teasing towards her.

"Can we help you…?" Matt asked, forcing his tone to be neutral.

"Wesley, James Wesley," he was surprised the other man had given his name this time, considering last time he'd been so reticent. "And thanks to your success today, I have another job for you."

"Already?" he heard Foggy start in surprise. "Who's the client?"

"Myself," James Wesley said determinedly. "I want you two to represent me on a case rather personal."

This time, even with his blindness, he couldn't help staring along with Foggy towards the man.

"Actually," Wesley set his case atop their desk. "You'll be representing me on behalf of Harry."

…His intern?

"What?" Foggy blurted out in confusion.

Matt nearly echoed him.

Started 11/27/15 – Completed 11/29/15

 **A/n: I've always liked Vanessa's character. She's such a classy lady, so I'm surprised she's still not present in the character filter here…And more Matt! Is it surprising that I'm a bit insecure writing him (but even more so Foggy strangely)? In any case, I'm updating this late today, but still hope people really like this chapter and will review!**

* * *

 **Anon reviews:**

1\. Guest 1: Thank you and I hope you continue to enjoy!

2\. Guest 2: Don't worry, plenty's coming! Thanks!


	19. Fireworks in Your Eyes I

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Nineteen: Fireworks in Your Eyes I_

He wasn't pulling their leg. Not that Matt thought the other would be the type to do that, especially not with them. In fact, this James Wesley person was utterly all-business right now, and which meant he needed to sober quickly. It was a good thing he hadn't had much alcohol in the first place, though poor Foggy couldn't say the same.

"Could you, uh, be clearer?" Foggy hesitantly asked.

He could practically hear the man's lips press into a thin line.

"I am asking you to represent myself on a case that I wish to bring up on behalf of my associate –Henrietta Potter," Wesley spoke firmly.

"She's not your intern," Matt interjected, looking straight at the man and he knew the other was probably starting to be suspicious about his blindness.

"…What makes you say that?" the other man didn't answer his question and neatly evaded. Matt could hear Foggy shift uncomfortably near them.

"You're too casual with her," Matt pointed out. "Even now, aside from switching to calling her your associate, you're still casually calling her by name."

"It's not exactly rare to call a younger employee by name," Wesley's tone sounded amused rather than annoyed.

"If you're working at a Baskin Robbins or some kind of fast food restaurant," Matt retorted. "A workplace with a casual air maybe. But this type of business you're in seems to be strictly professional, as you portray yourself as."

"She is a friend," the man conceded, and through limited 'sight', Matt could see Wesley nod. "We were in the middle of a day out together, when I was called in to work and to get the John Healy case handled. She came along with me."

"Was anything she said true then?" Foggy blurted out.

"For the most part," Matt could hear the smile in his voice. "Just replace everything she said she'd done with myself, and then you would have the truth. She probably interfered because she could tell I was getting too brisk and wanted to get it all over with, given that I wasn't all too happy that my time with her was interrupted in the first place."

"And with what you said, it would come to mean she isn't just a friend, is she," Matt stated more than asked.

"Do you want a confirmation of some kind, Mr. Murdock?" Wesley tilted his head, but again there was no inflection in his voice that Matt could get a hint of (annoyingly enough).

"Maybe we do," Foggy joined then, though he admitted he was just intensely curious about the two.

"Not that it's any of your business, but maybe she isn't," Wesley allowed himself to imply. Not that he himself had any real confirmation anyway…

Matt frowned. "What kind of case is this? What's the issue?"

He could feel the smugness radiate off the man, who straightened up and laid his briefcase on the desk.

"Harry's guardians are abusive," Wesley told them briefly. "I don't have proof of everything, but I know they are."

That made Matt frown deeply, and he could tell Foggy wasn't happy about this either.

"What proof _do_ you have though?" Matt asked. "And how old is she to still need guardians?"

"…She's 16," was much more reluctantly admitted.

Matt had to pause at that, especially after the earlier admission and implications, while he knew Foggy took a double take at the new information. But he knew New York law and she was one year away from being legal in the state, and nothing so far in the two's interaction hinted at all at a sexual nature or being driven by lust. It was rather the opposite and he had not been able to tell that she was uncomfortable or upset at all while in the presence of this man, who likewise Matt had only been able to tell was rather as openly enamored with her as he'd allowed himself to be (which he had a feeling wasn't a usual thing). In fact, despite knowing she was young at least, he (or even Foggy with his sight) hadn't been able to tell just how far apart in age the two were, and had only been able to note the ease between them and the open nature of their relationship.

"I have most of the information in here," Wesley took out a folder tidily filled with information. "But generally, they obviously neglect her. They're not poor or struggling, but they buy all new things for themselves and their son, while giving her hand me downs from her male, obese cousin. When I first met her, she wasn't going to school while their son was enrolled in a private school. There hadn't been a hint of if she'd simply dropped out or not, only that she wasn't attending. She has no medical records to speak of –she hasn't even been to see a doctor. Everything she owns, from her clothes to her old backpack before I got her a new one is old, raggedy and probably a hand me down."

He also added on about how he'd found old reports that one or two teachers from when Harry was a kid had reported suspicions about the Dursleys, but nothing had been proven and it was let go. He also reported about how Vernon had always had a steady income and so wouldn't have trouble taking care of and providing easily for two kids, Petunia had been known by Harry's old school to be favoring Dudley and somehow "stricter" with her niece, and in Dudley's old school before the move that he'd been a bully and did his best to terrorize students and teachers. On the other hand, Harry practically had no records about her, especially medically and nothing about schooling after she turned 11. He even told them that Harry had let slip she hadn't had proper schooling since then.

"While I am more than sure that they, aside from neglect, emotionally and verbally abuse her, I want you two to make sure she isn't being…abused in other ways, and to charge them and successfully put them away for abuse," Wesley scowled. "It would be a bonus if you could take guardianship away from them and handed over to me."

"I wouldn't advise that," Matt said quietly.

"And why's that?" Wesley narrowed his eyes at him.

Matt shrugged slightly. "You like her," he flat out said, though if she was as pretty as her voice and as kind and sweet as he thought she was, then he understood the other man. "You become her guardian and that won't work. At the least, you'd have to wait for two, not one, year to be with her, given your role of authority over her."

It was easy to tell the other had grimaced. "I'll keep that in mind," he muttered.

They finished up there and then it wasn't long until Wesley had left them too. Matt traced his fingers over files made especially for him, and feeling the bumps as he read the Braille. Curious the other would go to such lengths as to procure the information he needed specifically in Braille himself, and Matt and the others not needing to go and convert them. It rather stressed how important this case was to the other.

Foggy groaned. "Matt, I don't think I was drunk enough for that conversation."

He was inclined to agree with Foggy.

* * *

The night seemed to end smashingly well, in her opinion. After parting ways from Vanessa and having bought the painting of the various gradations of white, Harry and Wilson went out of the gallery and ended up finding Francis waiting for them and was the one to pick them up. Harry tried to not let on how disappointed she was, but she saw Wilson give her a knowing look. He helped her in, and soon enough they were being driven to Harry's home first.

However, once there, despite protesting she'd be fine, Wilson insisted he walk her to the door. The door was locked though.

"It's…late," she told a frowning Wilson. "Of course they'd lock the front door."

But the spare key was right under the door…mat. Well, she reached there and had expected it, knowing they kept it there for Dudley when _he_ came late to home…but somehow it just wasn't there anymore. She looked around, felt around the area, looked under pots, and then tried the door one more time…but with a sinking feeling, she realized she'd been locked out. And kept out.

"Did you find the key?" Wilson asked tersely, though she knew his ire wasn't at her.

She turned to him and gave a small smile. "Dudley, my cousin, probably forgot to put it back. No worries though! I can get my window open."

Harry would have to subtly use magic to get it open, but it was doable. She quickly strode to around the house, where her room was at the third floor of it. She would just have to climb up. No problem. Finding the garden fence decoration placed against the house, she grabbed hold and began to climb. A heavy hand on her shoulder stopped her and she looked to see Wilson still frowning. He shook his head at her.

"Perhaps it's best that we head back to the apartment complex. I'll let Wesley know you're there, and he'll most definitely let you stay over," Wilson gave her a strained smile, though she could tell he was obviously furious.

"Yeah…I guess you're right," she couldn't help sounding dejected, though she tried not to since she didn't want to continue to upset Wilson, who she was starting to understand what Wesley meant when he said he had a temper. Despite it all, she was a little worried about the Dursleys…

Heading back to the car, they waited in awkward silence until they reached the apartment complex and headed to Wilson's penthouse.

"Water? Coffee? Tea?" he offered her, though at least he sounded much calmer than before.

She grinned widely. "Finally! Someone with sensibilities. You have got to tell Wesley that tea is so much more sensible than coffee," she told him, and he chuckled as he went about to make tea for the both of them.

From there, they talked about various things until Harry felt her eyes grow heavy and she fell asleep on the couch.

Wilson calmly observed her, thinking about the night and of his subordinate and friend. And speak of the devil, his phone received a message from Wesley saying he was on his way. He waited for Wesley to arrive, and once there, Wesley took a look at the dozing Harry and sighed.

"Thank you for taking care of her, Wilson," he told him gratefully.

"It was my pleasure," Wilson nodded towards him. "I enjoyed the night with her and am glad for it. How was your business?"

"Rather well, I believe," Wesley definitely sounded pleased. "As it is, I believe the duo we hired for the Healy case are going to successfully charge Harry's family and bring them to court."

Although by the dark look that appeared on Wilson's face, he wasn't happy for some reason.

"Wilson?"

Wilson took a deep breath, though he did relay what happened to Wesley, who was equally unhappy about it.

"If the two should fail to have her family brought to…justice," Wilson's lip curled. "I'm sure you won't be averse to handling it yourself."

Wesley grinned rather viciously. "Of course not, sir. I would even be delighted to, for a change."

"Good, good," the slightly taller man murmured. "However, I believe that if her family were to 'go away' in either case, there is still the problem of her guardianship? She's 16, which means that she will have to have someone be her guardian until she's 18."

Wesley frowned at that. "I was going to recommend myself, but Murdock believes that…it wouldn't be wise. He seems to have caught on to…how I feel about Harry, and said that I wouldn't be a good guardian choice because of that."

"Then would I suffice?" Wilson surprised Wesley.

"Sir?" he looked at his boss in shock.

"If you need me to and are alright with it, then I will be fine claiming guardianship over Harry until she comes of age," Wilson offered.

"That would…that would be fantastic and ideal actually," Wesley's gratefulness expanded tenfold towards his boss, who only gave a small smile back towards him.

They talked a little more of details, and then Wesley went to pick up Harry and then carry her to his own apartment, where he settled her onto his bed and looked at her and the spot next to her longingly. But instead he chose to respect her space and got ready for bed, heading to his couch.

* * *

She was really comfortable. The bed was large, soft, and warm. Nothing at all like her own bed…her…own bed…

Waking up completely and looking around, she was confused to find herself in Wesley's room. Thinking back to the night before, she had fallen asleep talking to Wilson, and he or Wesley had probably brought her here.

She still couldn't believe the Dursleys had locked her out.

Yawning, she scrubbed her hand against her eyes and slowly got out of the bed. So it was Saturday…it was Saturday and it was already 10:15! Yelping, she ran towards the shower, took a quick one and brushed her teeth in there, and then darted out of it, throwing whatever on and not even bothering to dry herself.

She was so late to meet Peasegood.

Not only that, but that day was the Will Reading for Sirius! And she had completely missed out on the start of her lessons, so there was that too. Oh Merlin, she was screwed. She overslept and she was nowhere near where she was supposed to be, and Peasegood was probably either (or both) pissed or worried about her absence.

"What's the rush?" Wesley's bewildered voice greeted her as she slammed his bedroom door open and was in the process of running towards the apartment door.

"Can't talk, really late," she said in a panic.

He put down the mug of coffee he'd been holding. "Where do you need to go?"

"Back to my house," she scrunched up her nose cutely. "I was supposed to meet someone there, and it's three hours passed the time I was supposed to meet them." Heck, she missed her weekend "call" to Hermione and Ron too.

"Your house is some distance away, so I can drive you there now," he told her.

Though she hesitated because she wasn't sure of how close he could be to discovering the truth about magic and her, she really needed to get back quickly. So she agreed to let him drive there, and he transferred his coffee into a travel mug and then they set off.

But as soon as they got there, she could see Peasegood standing by the porch stairs, looking (like she thought) both worried and irritable. She darted out of the car as soon as it stopped, and strode over to Peasegood.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out. "I was staying over someone else's place and overslept and I totally forgot –"

"Yes, fine. We'll talk about that later. At the moment, however, we are about to be late to the Will Reading," Peasegood frowned at her. "We'll have to leave now to get there on time."

"How are we travel –"

"Harry, is everything alright?"

She winced and turned to face Wesley, who she'd rushed out on without warning or explanation, and was looking at Peasegood in suspicion.

"It's okay, Wesley. This is…" How the hell was she supposed to explain Peasegood?

"Do I need to Obliviate him?" Peasegood scowled at him. "Does he know anything?"

She turned a glare at him. "No! He doesn't and he wouldn't if you would have just kept quiet!"

"What's going on?" Wesley was scowling back. "Harry, who is he?"

But she saw Peasegood raising his wand and there was no way she would ever let something happen to Wesley, even if it was just his memories. Scowling, she pushed Wesley behind her and stared straight at Peasegood with an angry air. Unknown to her though, her eyes became slightly a little more effervescent and the air around them was slightly becoming suffocating. Peasegood recognized the magical aura she was beginning to project out in her anger, so he set down his wand to his side and warily watched her.

The two of them stared at each other carefully.

"Fine. But you explain it to him and you have to make sure he keeps his mouth shut," Peasegood backed down completely, catching her off guard with his surprising agreement. "Don't let anyone else know that you've told someone about our world and what we can do."

Harry inhaled a thankful breath before turning to Wesley, seeing him look ruffled and beads of sweat gathering at his forehead.

"What was that?" he asked her in alarm.

"What was what?" she asked, genuinely confused.

Peasegood tossed her a disbelieving look, muttering under his breath. Doesn't even know the power she wielded…

"We're running out of time," he reminded her. "I don't want to leave him here free to talk without having made precautions, so we'll take him with us until then."

"Fine," Harry gave an irritated look. She turned back to Wesley. "We have to go somewhere right now, but I promise I'll explain everything. Do you mind coming with us and waiting for me to explain?"

When she was looking imploringly at him like that, how could he say no?

"Yeah, okay. That's…fine. Where are we going?" Wesley relented.

"To England," Peasegood grumbled.

Before Wesley could voice his confusion, Harry had grabbed onto him at the same time as Peasegood grabbed hold of her. The next moment they were there, the next they were in a room at the Leaky Cauldron.

Wesley keeled over and dropped to his hands and knees, throwing up onto the floor. Harry winced and kneeled next to him, rubbing his back.

"Welcome to the world of International Portkeys," Peasegood grumbled, looking slightly queasy himself and throwing whatever object he'd held to the side. Harry felt rather sick too, and thought that International Portkeys were as bad as Apparition (even if it is Side-Along she'd only experienced so far).

"Sorry," she mumbled to Wesley, ignoring Peasegood. "I don't know if I should have gave you warning or not, but I don't think you would have believed me."

"Where…where are we?" he gasped out, slowly regaining his bearings.

"A room in the Leaky Cauldron," Peasegood was the one who answered him. "Gringotts doesn't allow anyone to Apparate or Portkey directly into the bank, so a room here is fine until we can get out. Here," he retrieved two robes from the closet there and threw them to Harry.

Harry quickly banished Wesley's mess and cleaned him up, and then handed him a robe. He momentarily stared at the now clean for floor and then at Harry's wand.

"Here, put this on," he gave her a strange look, but she gave him an apologetic look back. "I'll answer questions later?"

At his reluctant nod, she put on her own robe and waited for Peasegood.

"Ready?" he asked them. "Good. We have to go now."

And Harry hesitantly reached out to grab Wesley's hand, and was relieved when he allowed it and even squeezed it back.

Started 12/2/15 – Completed 12/2/15

 **A/n: I wanted to update this yesterday, but I got distracted celebrating my birthday. But, as usual, I celebrate my birthday by updating the entire week, so….New chapter! (Probably tomorrow too XD) Hope you guys enjoyed this one, eh? Please review~**


	20. Fireworks in Your Eyes II

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Twenty: Fireworks in Your Eyes II_

Matt observed as much of the house as he could, knowing it looked normal outwardly. But he needed to pay attention to what was going on in the inside.

" _No good shite –I tell you she wants to run around shamelessly, let her!"_

" _Vernon, the_ _ **neighbors**_ _! What if they saw her freakishness!"_

" _Good riddance! Maybe she'll get put away and we don't have to deal with her and_ _ **her**_ _kind anymore. Especially if she's going to be running around with her 'tutor.'"_

By the time Matt had reached the door, his jaw had clamped down and there was a muscle there that was ticking angrily. He knocked firmly and quickly schooled his expression. The door was opened in a rush, and Matt had to force a smile out.

"We're not buying anything!" the man –Vernon –shouted and then went to close the door.

Matt lost the smile quickly and shoved his cane in the opening, preventing the door from being closed.

"I'm not selling," Matt calmly told Vernon. "I'm here about your niece –Henrietta Potter?"

He didn't need to see it and could just hear the sneer in the man's voice. "What's that girl done now? Prostituting herself out?"

Matt inwardly bristled and felt he could easily share James Wesley's distaste for this family.

"She's involved in some legal problems," he said carefully. "I would like to talk to you about her."

"You know what? Fine," he could hear the malicious glee in the other's voice. "Come in and I'll tell you what a real troublemaker that twit is."

If they were under the impression that Harry was in trouble and he was here to gather evidence against her, then that was their thoughts. In the meantime, he was only going to be able to gather more evidence against _them_ , especially by their own mouths.

"Do you mind if I record this?" Matt smiled congenially, forcing it to be congenial.

"Yeah, you go ahead and get all the evidence you need!"

"Don't mind if I do," Matt sarcastically muttered while getting out his recorder and turning it on. Thankfully, Foggy would be working with Karen to call overseas about things they needed to know, so he would handle the family.

And if he allowed them to rant all they wanted, telling them not to bother censoring themselves…well, it was their choice and they had willingly spoken out. And if he found the cousin next and asked about Harry and the kid gloriously spilled everything –from a fucking _cupboard_ to a secondhand room that used to have locks all over the door and being fed sporadically because "she was a worthless bitch"…Matt wouldn't dare interrupt and say it was all too much.

He and Foggy were going to murder these people all across the courtroom.

Matt only wished that there was more he could do about these people, because they deserved a lot more than prison and what they'd get by a guilty verdict. But, unlike most others, _these_ people he couldn't exactly beat up…

* * *

Wesley admitted he wasn't sure what was going on and that he was just the slightest bit afraid. He'd been in _one_ place and then had suddenly gone to an entirely different place. And the feeling that he'd endured for it was horrible! He couldn't help having thrown up, and he found (once his head was clearer) that he was horrified to have done so and be in such a state in front of Harry.

Then the bizarreness kept continuing and even escalating.

Harry had somehow made his mess disappear and then was making him wear a…robe? And then she was grabbing his hand, so he made himself focus and calm down. He was good at keeping calm and professional. He just had to channel that now.

And her hand was warm and soft and she had actually reached out for his. How could he not squeeze it and reassure her, and decide he could do patience for her?

They walked with that man Wesley still didn't know who he was, and entered a pub that was grungy and filled with strange characters.

"Peasegood, are we going to just head straight there?" Harry whispered to this 'Peasegood' man.

"We'll head straight there," Peasegood turned back to them. "Don't stop and keep going. Be on alert."

Harry nodded at him before moving closer to Wesley. "Keep close, okay?"

Wesley nodded back and then followed them into the back where they faced a brick wall. Confused, but knowing he was supposed to be quiet and patient, he watched the man take out an elaborately carved stick and then tap on several bricks.

He couldn't help his jaw dropping slightly as the bricks began to move and reveal an alley filled with even more wonders.

As they quickly walked on through, Wesley took the time to do his best and look around and observe everything. Now that he was calmer and rational…he realized he was surrounded by all things _not_ rational. As bewildering as it was, his head was clear enough to see what was surrounding him and also think back to what had just happened with Harry, and put it all together to realize that this was something magical. In fact, glancing at a few words around him, that was truly a literal sense.

He could confidently say that the girl he was holding onto and was so enamored with…was a witch. A full-blown, certified witch.

He pushed up his glasses and carefully watched around, feeling more and more confident with his theory. Though he kept walking, he leaned closer to Harry to get his confirmation.

"I know I said I'd wait for explanations –and I will –but I'd like a confirmation on something," he whispered into her ear.

She looked up at him unsurely, but nodded.

"Are you a witch?"

By the grimace on her face, he had all the confirmation he needed.

"Does that bother you?" she asked all worried.

It strangely, honestly didn't. Even as the realization hit him and as he had just suddenly (and kind of rushed) was thrust into this world, not once did it cross his mind to be truly afraid and never revolted, most specifically when it came to Harry. He suppose it was just an aspect of her he would have to embrace.

"Not at all," he said nonchalantly. "Perhaps it explains the spell you've woven over me," he deadpanned.

She stared at him, mouth in an O. But then she blushed and turned red, swatting at his arm.

"You! Why I…"

He raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, did the pun hurt your ears? Too corny? Maybe I should have said how 'enchanted' you've made me –"

A bright, wide smile broke out on her face as she laughed quietly and tried to keep in her mirth. He smiled softly, glad to see her feeling better and surer of the situation.

'We're good. Answer and explain everything later, but right now we're okay' he wanted to convey to her.

She bit her lip shyly and shuffled closer to him, and he couldn't help (contentedly at that) bringing an arm around her and pulling her even closer to his side and holding her there.

Peasegood kept his amused look and comments to himself, though he got a better idea why Harry was all protective over this man and why she wanted him to know the truth. It might or might not be a development he would have to pass onto to Dumbledore, but for now it was something he'd keep to the three of them. Besides, Dumbledore (if he hadn't sent in some lackey) was probably going to be at the Will Reading and would find out himself, with or without Peasegood.

"Are you ready for this, Miss Potter?" he asked her and her face shuttered and closed.

It was something Wesley noted immediately, glancing at Peasegood warily and wondering what exactly were they there for?

Were they really in England?

He had to pause in his thoughts at that, because that was a strange thought since they had just been in New York not too long ago. But hearing talk around him made him confirm that those were definitely English accents he was hearing. However, they came upon a large, very impressive white marble building and Wesley focused in on that.

He did have to raise his eyebrows at the engraving in front of it.

"Do they mean that? About thieves and all?" Wesley asked Harry.

"You wouldn't want to try them," Peasegood overheard, saying dryly.

They entered and Wesley held back an involuntary flinch at the…creatures manning the counters.

"They're Goblins," Harry told him quietly. "They're in charge of Gringotts, the Wizarding Bank."

It was amusing that wizards and witches had their own personal bank. It was just something he hadn't thought of in regards to anything magic.

"The Will Reading should be starting soon," Peasegood told them. "If you'd like to check out your trust vault now to look around for any items that may interest you in taking, do so now while I check out their progress and readiness. Meet back here when you're done."

Harry nodded and then tugged at Wesley's hand as Peasegood left them.

"Do you want to come with me?"

"It would be preferable than staying here by myself," he gave an amused look and she flushed red and shrugged.

She then led him to one of the Goblins and spoke briefly to them, flashing them a card he hadn't seen from her before. The Goblin signaled another and then Harry was following that one.

"It's nice to see you again, Griphook," Harry greeted the Goblin, though Wesley was still wary of the other.

'Griphook' bared his teeth in what Wesley guessed was supposed to be a smile. "Likewise, Miss Potter. Or should I say Lady Potter-Black?"

Harry winced. "I wouldn't have a choice, would I?"

"Wait –Lady?" Wesley interjected.

She gave him a hesitant look. "It's complicated. I have some very old familial ties."

Well hell. He'd been just worried about being worthy for Harry as is, now he had to add in factoring that she was apparently nobility.

She squeezed his hand and caught his eyes. "Not that it means anything," she tried to reassure him.

He tried not to think it did, but it was hard to not compare him and her and feel himself lacking in anything to offer her in return. But after the ride down to her vault (he rather liked the rollercoaster feel of it, oddly enough, but he was also amazed she had a freaking vault to keep her money in), the feeling was exacerbated when her vault was opened and mounds of _gold_ was shown.

"Wizarding money is in gold?" he asked, trying to keep himself in check, even though he was in shock.

"Galleons are in gold," she started, showing him a Galleon. "Sickles are silver and Knuts are bronze."

In a society that uses actual precious metals for money, he was apprehensive to know how much it all was converted to English pounds, much less American dollars.

"Oh, thank goodness! Someone managed to deposit my school trunk," Harry exclaimed, finding a very heavy duty wooden trunk. "I think this is pretty much all I need in here, since everything else is money."

She grabbed a handful of Galleons though and held them out to him. "Here," she looked at him expectantly.

"What for?" he blinked at her.

She blushed. "Well, you do a lot for me and always buy me things, especially expensive things, and take me to a lot of places…I just…want to repay you somehow."

He reached over and closed her fingers over the gold coins.

"I don't need them. And you know I've always been happy to do everything for you, without any repayment," he told her firmly.

She reluctantly nodded and dropped the coins back onto a pile, but still held a few in her hand and shoved it into his.

"Just a few then," she said determinedly. "I just want you to have them. Just because."

He stared at her bemusedly before looking down at the coins to examine them more thoroughly. He also noted there were seven in total.

"Seven is a powerful magical number," she informed him quietly. "So seven for luck."

"I'll keep them close," he smiled slightly and pocketed them, before reaching out and grabbing her hand. "Do you need a hand with your trunk?"

"It's alright," she said just as she started to levitate it, which made it hard for him not to stare. "Let's get back now."

They got back to the cart and the waiting Griphook, and then they headed back to the surface. From there, Harry and Wesley found that Peasegood wasn't there yet, so they stayed in the spot they were supposed to.

"This is a Will Reading, right?" Wesley asked, remembering Peasegood talking about it. He glanced at Harry, who had started to stiffen up. "Who was it?" he softened his voice.

She swallowed a lump in her throat. "At the end of my school year, my godfather was murdered. Not too long after, I moved to America to go into hiding."

He still had a ton of questions, but he knew that it wasn't the time for them. Instead, he reached over and pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her head.

"I was trying to save him," he heard her mutter against him. "Instead I was the one who ended up needing saving."

He opened his mouth to say something, only to be distracted by a bright flash. The two of them looked over at the culprit, and Wesley was a little weirded out at seeing such a large, old-fashioned camera in the hands of the woman who'd taken it.

"Merlin, you two look so cute together! I had to take a picture for next week's Witch Weekly…" the witch trailed off, blinking as she realized who stood in front of her. "M-my goodness…is that _Harry Potter_?"

"Fuck," Harry muttered, and that took Wesley off guard. Harry very rarely cussed, and it was mostly in British slang anyway.

"Miss Potter, please an interview! Who is this handsome man you're with? Are you two together?" and the woman would have excitedly continued to blurt out questions, had Peasegood not appeared and glared warningly at her.

"Come along, you two. It's time," he said quickly, giving one last short glare at the Witch Weekly reporter. Once they were some ways away, Peasegood gave a glance to Harry. "Paparazzi seem to follow you around everywhere."

"Unfortunately," Harry grumbled surly.

Wesley took what had happened and said into account, and deduced that Harry was somehow famous. Fame and nobility? His inadequacy was further showing, and he wondered why she had bothered with him in the first place.

But he felt her hand again and he looked at her to see her morose face, and knew that what mattered was that she needed him right then and for whatever reason chose him to be around. Nothing else mattered right then.

They entered into a room and saw that a few others were there. Wesley didn't recognize anyone, but he could tell that everyone knew Harry as they all saw and got up from their seats to converge on her. Harry smiled lightly as she accepted hugs from everyone.

"Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, it's good to see you again," she told a red-haired couple sincerely. She then turned to a shabby-looking man, who looked rather exhausted. "Professor Lupin, I really hope you've been taking care of yourself."

"It's Remus, Harry. I'm no longer your professor, remember?" the brunet wizard smiled tiredly. "And I do well enough." Still, Harry gave him a warning glare and he looked sheepish.

"Blimey, Harry! You look good!" another redhead, probably the son of the couple, greeted Harry next. His words and next action had Wesley tense, as the redhead threw his arms around Harry.

"Move over, Ron. Don't hog her," a bushy-haired brunette moved in and hugged Harry at the same time. The new girl playfully ruffled Harry's hair. "But he's right. You look great, Harry. I assume you've been able to eat better this summer?"

"Wonderful actually, Hermione," Harry answered as they pulled away from each other. To his surprise, Harry looked over to him and reached over to grab his sleeve and tug him over. "Guys, this is James Wesley. The guy I told you about?"

While the two younger ones seemed to understand, looking at Wesley in a new light (She'd talked about him? It made him feel strange, in a good way…), the older ones in the group looked at him suspiciously.

"Who is he, Harry?" Remus, someone Wesley had initially pegged as a gentle sort (he was rather wrong), growled out.

"I met him when I was hiding…somewhere," she finished lamely, knowing she couldn't say where. "He's a…friend." However, the guilty blush on her face said otherwise, and Wesley was pleased with that.

"It's a pleasure meeting you all," Wesley said smoothly, cutting in as politely as he could. "I'm glad to finally meet close friends and family of Harry's. I've been looking forward to it."

"A pleasure as well, Mr. Wesley," the older red-haired woman hesitantly said.

Remus stared at him and Wesley did his best to stand still and not move, wondering what the man was thinking. And then the man narrowed his eyes slightly and sniffed a bit, and yeah that wasn't weird or anything…But then he was smiling slightly for some reason, so Wesley took it that he'd somehow gave off a good sign to the other.

"Good to meet you as well, Mr. Wesley," Remus said politely. "Molly, Arthur, why don't we let Harry catch up with her friends?"

They left and then it was just Wesley with Harry and her friends.

"So this is the Oreo stalker guy," the redhead frowned at him. Wesley had to blink at that, and had no idea that he was known as that.

"Ugh, Ron," Harry said annoyance. "Don't get all overprotective again!"

"What? Why not? You're my best mate! Why shouldn't I get all overprotective?"

And as the two quietly began to argue, Wesley noticed the other person in their group staring at him in scrutiny. He turned and looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

The girl, who Harry had addressed as Hermione, bristled a little, almost like a cat. But it was nice to know that Harry had such overprotective friends.

After a minute of scrutinizing him, Hermione nodded surely to herself. "You'll do," she said confidently, before snatching Ron's collar. "Come along, Ronald. Let's leave the lovebirds alone."

Harry sputtered as Wesley looked on in amusement, with Hermione dragging Ron away back to their seats.

"I'm sorry about them," Harry huffed. "Honestly, my friends are mental."

"I like them," Wesley told her. "And they obviously care about you a lot. That means a lot to me."

Harry looked at him in surprise and smiled a little. "I'm really happy you're here," she told him softly.

"I'm glad to be here," he answered her.

Just then a Goblin entered with a roll of parchment, and Peasegood came to them and went to usher them into a chair. Before it got started, Wesley saw an old man with the strangest robes and the longest beard he'd ever seen, enter the room and sat down in the back. He was quick to see Harry catch sight of the man, and a strange look pass over her face.

"You okay?" he nudged her.

"Fine," she had a faint smile. "Just…fine."

But the hold on his hand said she wasn't at all.

The Goblin began and he didn't listen. It wasn't for him after all. Instead, he paid attention to Harry and watched her closely, seeing her face grow stony as the Will Reading continued. He knew though, when it was her turn to have what was read out to her, because her breathing shallowed and her eyes gained a bright, wet shine to them.

He pulled her closer to his side and didn't care if anyone saw or watched, but he just wrapped his arms around her and let her cry into him.

When the reading was over and the room emptied out, they were respectfully left alone and he just held on.

Started 12/3/15 – Completed 12/4/15

 **A/n: Still amazed I managed to finish this chapter in time for today XD But thank you to everyone for all the late birthday wishes! I really appreciate it and wanted to get this all out to you guys ASAP! I'm rather surprised (pleasantly though) that the reveal was a complete shock, but I'm glad everyone enjoyed it (hint: remember the dates, since if you remembered Peasegood talking about the Will Reading on Harry's birthday, the week later would have led to this ;D). I hope everyone enjoyed and I'll probably get the next part out on Monday! Also check out my forum (link on profile), that will have challenges on rare pairs I like :D**

* * *

 **Anon reviews:**

1\. Guest 1: Thank you! I hope this chapter made up for the 'wait' ;D

2\. Guest 2: Thanks! And lol, at least you didn't have to have a long wait for this one, eh?

3\. Guest 3: And here's more!

4\. Guest 4 (?): Thanks for coming back again and leaving birthday greetings.


	21. Fireworks in Your Eyes III

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Twenty-One: Fireworks in Your Eyes III_

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He doesn't know why that slipped out. He knew it was a sensitive topic and at the moment, Harry seemed a hair's breadth away from a breakdown. But maybe she did need to talk about it. Maybe she hadn't been able to talk about it at all, with anyone.

He watched closely, noticing the way she stared at the floor in intense contemplation.

"I do," she admitted. "But I don't think I can right now."

Wesley nodded in understanding. He wasn't about to push her either. If she didn't want to talk about it right then, that's fine. He knew she'd talk to him sooner or later, and he was going to give her time and her space to do so. She'd talk when she was ready to.

"Shall we go out then?" he stood up and held out his arm.

She took a shuddering breath and nodded, standing and taking hold of it. "I need ice cream," she mumbled. "I could even show you Fortescue's right now."

"Sounds like a plan," he played along with her, leading her out of the silent room.

They'd made it to the main part of the bank before they saw anyone from before, and it was strangely the man with the long beard and the outlandish purple robes and twinkling stars. Wesley had to admit that they made him stare, especially as he had to scrutinize them to see and realize that it wasn't just his imagination that they were twinkling.

"Harry, we must talk," he directed towards Wesley's companion quietly.

It made him uneasy and want to take Harry away. However, instead she just nodded tiredly and the man led them out of the bank and towards the Leaky Cauldron. Wesley caught sight of Peasegood lingering inside, watching for them (and around them) worriedly, which further scattered his nerves. He could only just follow the two into the room from before, where the man apparently cast some spell or something. Since Harry didn't seem worried, Wesley cautiously didn't ask about it.

But the elderly man did look at him curiously then, to which he straightened up and hid his nerves, while Harry also noticed and nervously cleared her throat as well.

"This is James Wesley, Professor. I met him in America. Wesley, this is Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of my boarding school I go to," Harry introduced them to each other.

Wesley held out his hand and smiled politely, making sure it wasn't strained. "Pleased to meet you, sir."

Dumbledore grasped it curiously, though he did strangely smile warmly at Wesley. "Pleased to meet you as well, young man. It is good to see Harry meeting new people and gaining close friends." Dumbledore turned towards Harry, his smile becoming a little wider and even warmer. "And what have I told you my girl? Love is the strongest weapon one can have."

Harry easily turned red, while Wesley was rather plainly bemused (and frankly lost). He was also rather amused to be called a 'young man', since he hadn't been called that or been one for a while. Then again, compared to this man, Wesley (even in his early thirties) still probably constituted as a young man. He was idly wondering how old Dumbledore was though. Seventies? Eighties? He seemed too spry though…

Wesley did observe that it seemed Harry and her headmaster were closer than a normal student and headmaster would be.

"Can we talk in front of him?" Harry asked suddenly and the two of them looked at each other, with Wesley hiding his surprise and the quick, odd jolt of hurt that went through him. Then again, it made sense for her to ask, since maybe this was supposed to be a private talk and some things weren't meant to be said in front of someone without magic like him. It didn't erase the feeling though, even if he did push it down as much as possible.

"I don't think it will be a problem," Dumbledore murmured then, and the two of them looked at the headmaster in surprise. "Mr. Wesley, do you mind sitting quietly as we talk in front of you about some matters that need to be kept quiet?"

Wesley glanced at Harry. "Of course," because he did so in front of Harry many times, and it was only right to return the favor. "I wouldn't dare speak of any of it, without Harry's permission."

Dumbledore smiled slightly, his eyes twinkling (they were actually twinkling) at Wesley. "Wonderful. I'll secure it from you later, but I don't see any need of it. No one around here and in our world knows about you or at least who or where you're from. It is a good advantage to have, especially since at least Harry can have someone to talk to freely."

Wesley nodded in agreement, even if he was still confused about what was going on and being said.

"I believe Peasegood informed you that I would be coming to give you lessons?" Dumbledore asked her, and it was hard not to react with surprise again. Still, Wesley maintained a cool demeanor, even if he wanted to have Harry explain everything to him right then.

"He did," Harry confirmed. "What…what will they be about?"

"It is my firmest belief that you must fully inform yourself on Voldemort, of who he was before he became what he is," Dumbledore said firmly. "There is also a memory I wish to come to see, and hope you'll be able to retrieve by the end of those set of memories you'll be viewing with me."

Harry nodded, but still looked disappointed. "Will that be all, Professor?"

Dumbledore looked at Harry inquisitively. "What is it, Harry?"

She let her crestfallen face show. "It's just that…it's all good and well to learn about him and find out all we can…but shouldn't I be training and learning somehow? Peasegood is in charge of my education, but it sounds more like he'll just be continuing my magical studies. Shouldn't I…get prepared?"

Dumbledore frowned and opened his mouth, but Harry cut him off.

"Yes, yes, I know," she said in frustration. "Love is my ultimate weapon. But how am I going to go up against the likes of Bellatrix, if I can't even practice dueling or learn to be more efficient in my duels so I can attack and defend better? Back at the Ministry battle, you were doing all sorts of things against Voldemort that I could use against those attacking me."

Wesley wasn't liking what he was hearing at all, and was on the verge of asking Harry to just explain things to him now.

The headmaster looked his age then. "Indeed, it would be helpful to sharpen and expand your skills, especially if you are expected to run up against our enemies, much less Voldemort. Perhaps after a session with a memory, I shall see about passing down some of the things I know. I am also sure that you definitely need to continue learning Occlumency from last year, but I will make a note and inform Peasegood that perhaps he should look into starting you on Legilimency."

Harry felt the tension in her shoulders relax, which she hadn't realized she'd been so tense.

"You should not worry so much though," Dumbledore's tone was light. "You did more than impressive back at the Ministry battle, and a great deal of influence was accredited to you from your classmates for their DADA O.W.L. grades and for their own preparedness against full grown wizards that were aiming to do great harm against you all."

Though Harry's face flushed red at the praise, Wesley was getting anxious about the talk.

Suddenly, there were loud commotions outside their room.

"We can hear outside, but no one is able to hear inside," Dumbledore informed them. "I should check what is happening, in case it needs my attention."

Wesley tensed as the headmaster headed towards the door. Once it was opened, he held his breath as Dumbledore checked outside the room.

"There is an attack happening below," he said suddenly, causing both Wesley and Harry to be caught off guard and worry. "I'll sort it out."

"Let me help," Harry stood up, wearing a determined look on her face.

Dumbledore looked hesitant, but then nodded his assent and then turned to leave and head downstairs already. Wesley stood up as well.

"Harry, what's going on?" he demanded.

She looked regretful. "Not right now, Wesley. I'll be back. Please stay in here, alright?"

"No!" he shouted, glaring at her. "I am _not_ just going to sit here and twiddle my thumbs when it sounds like you're off to do something dangerous! You shouldn't even be going out either –"

But Harry was shaking her head and heading towards the door, to which his longer legs helped him make quicker strides to reach it before her.

"Wesley, move out of the way," she growled, her emerald eyes sparking angrily.

"Not a chance," he clenched his jaw.

Harry's face screwed up in dismay, before she gained a thoughtful look on her face. And then suddenly she was right in front of him, leaning up and heading towards his face and about to kiss him. Shocked, Wesley could only stare until he began to lean down as well –except Harry took that opportunity to shove him to the side and then open and dart around the door, shutting it firmly behind her. Cursing, Wesley grabbed hold of the doorknob and twisted, only to find that he'd been locked in somehow.

"To hell with it," his lip curled and he reached into his suit jacket, grabbing hold of the gun he kept strapped to his side. He pointed and aimed at the doorknob and then fired off a few rounds, damaging the area around the doorknob enough that he reached out to it and was able to yank it off and therefore open the door.

He ran down the hall and down the stairs, taking two steps at a time as he kept a firm grip on his gun. Rounding a corner, he ducked and peered out, blinking and watching in awe and trepidation at seeing the battle in the pub that was happening. Colored lights were flashing around, Dumbledore kept changing and moving things around him, and Harry…

He'd been worried about her running off into some kind of battle, and upset that she was doing so and being reckless. But…reluctantly, he could admit that Harry was doing fine on her own and doing a hell of a lot of damage to the freaks wearing those creepy masks.

Biting his lip, he laid himself flat and took aim. He began firing off low shots that were enough to distract and seriously hurt those masked freaks, but he was low enough and behind good cover to not be seen. Harry, as well as Peasegood and Dumbledore, took advantage of his shots to quickly take down the others. But a curse hit Peasegood, who let out an alarming scream. In return, Harry took out whoever it was who shot that spell.

Wesley kept his gun low and hidden at his side, while jumping and heading towards the other three and ignoring the stray person here and there that was huddling to the floor or wall in fear. As he neared, he could see Peasegood wasn't looking good at all and subtly put his gun away.

"He needs immediate treatment," Harry bit her lip. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

"I can slow down the bleeding, but I do not know what curse he was hit with," Dumbledore looked strained, but he did begin to mutter under his breath and focus on Peasegood. "I will need to take him to St. Mungo's."

"Then go!" Harry urged. "Take him!"

Dumbledore hesitated, but she shook her head.

"I can take care of myself for now and the Aurors should be on their way."

The older man sighed. "I'll go, Harry, but you must head back to the room yourself. You mustn't be seen too long or be out in the open. And as you said, the Aurors are coming and the Death Eaters are all knocked out and incapacitated."

"I'll take her," Wesley cut in, interrupting the protest from Harry. Dumbledore nodded towards him and then gently took hold of Peasegood, disappearing silently. "Come on, Harry."

She pursed her lips, but a flat stare from him had her quieting and following him. They were halfway up the stairs when Harry faltered and bent over slightly, holding her side as she leaned against the wall.

"Harry?!" he came over in a panic and touched where she was holding her hand against. His fingers came away stained with blood. Muttering more curses, he brought her closer and supported her all the way up and to the room, where he closed the door and looked at the missing doorknob. She took a moment to glance askance at it and then him, before shaking her head.

"Reparo," she pointed at the doorknob, which affixed itself back to the door. Then she recast the Locking Charm, though she knew now that apparently damaging the door physically wouldn't do a damn thing against it.

Wesley helped her to sit on the bed after helping her take off her robe, to which he gently lifted the blood-soaked shirt she wore. He hissed at the sight of the gash on her side.

"Bad, huh," Harry winced, though he couldn't believe she wasn't showing more signs of being in pain. She'd always had a high tolerance of pain though. "I'm not too good at healing myself, even if I'm more than fair at healing spells and can use them well enough on others. I can probably slow it down with a minor healing spell, but I can't fully heal it myself."

"Could you make it as minor as possible?" he asked quietly, watching her closely.

"Probably," she muttered, shifting minimally. "Enough that it's at least not so bad I'm going to keep bleeding out until help arrives."

She hadn't had time to refill her emergency potions set after she'd used most of them on that Man in Black. She really wished she could have found time now.

"Just…just grab that robe and hand it to me," she said after aiming her wand at her side and muttering "Episkey." Obviously the minor healing spell didn't heal it completely, or close up the wound much, but it was enough to make sure it slowed the bleeding and then she used the robe to press against it and try to further stop it.

Wesley's large warm hand joined hers and helped put pressure on the robe against the wound. It made odd fluttering sensations erupt in her stomach.

"I promised you answers, didn't I?" she spoke suddenly and Wesley watched her with a blank face. "It's a really long story, I think, so you can sit on the bed instead."

He hadn't even realized that he was kneeling by her. Looking up at her, he nodded after a moment and moved to sit on the bed next to her, pressing in close and making sure his hand was steady and firm against hers on the robe over where he knew the wound was still probably bleeding.

"Years ago, there was a boy named Tom Riddle…" she told him what she knew of Tom, though she knew she was probably going to be learning a lot more of him now with Dumbledore. She went from his beginnings to how he became a Dark Lord and then began to terrorize Europe. From there, she started to include her parents, how they got into the war, and eventually how she was born and then their subsequent deaths and how she became famous.

Wesley's eyebrows flew up at that. "That sounds quite…"

"Queer?" she offered with a shrug. "Yeah, I know. Becoming famous like that isn't really something I want to brag about, and I can't see how people would think I would enjoy or feel alright with being famous because of my parents' deaths."

He inwardly winced, because that does sound horrible hearing it back like that. He also felt upset that she had to lose her parents like that and practically from the beginning of her life.

"After they died though, I was sent to live with the Dursleys," she started again, and explained about the blood wards and why she had to stay with them. And then, after prodding from him, she reluctantly recounted life at the Dursleys, though he knew she tried to downplay it as much as possible. Still, his blood practically boiled at hearing that she'd slept in the cupboard under the stairs for 11 years of her life. When Hogwarts came in, he was almost relieved since she had finally left the Dursleys behind in some capacity…only to be just as or even more horrified at how she spent her years in her school. He wasn't quite sure if there was anyone else he knew who had had as many attempts on their life, unprovoked even, as Harry. Or as young either.

Which was something, considering the line of work he was usually engaged in.

He wasn't all that happy to find a trend though. She wasn't, after everything, usually checked up on after her little "adventures." The Dursleys definitely weren't going to do or say anything to her, which left really no one. Her fourth year ended in a traumatizing event and Harry having seen a classmate die pointlessly before being sent home, but no one had said anything or talked to her in anyway. Hell, it had been compounded by the fact that some kind of new war was brewing and some crazed maniac (who had _tortured_ her in that graveyard) was back and wanting her dead. Then the resulting snide, quiet insults implying she was crazy in the newspaper (Wasn't there slander? Couldn't she sue the papers?), and then her being _tried_ as an actual _criminal_ –utterly ridiculous; he knew criminals and Harry wasn't one at all.

But then she wasn't done and she was telling him her fifth year in full, and he had a huge urge to hunt down this Umbridge woman and put a bullet into her head.

He wanted to say something, anything, right then, but he kept quiet as Harry finally recounted going after godfather, only to be tricked and then battled against grown wizards and being chased through the Ministry, finally leading to her godfather's death.

Then he realized no one had still talked to her about that either. She had seen someone else die again, and no one saw fit to talk to her about that or the events of this last year. And it wasn't just anyone who'd died –it had been _her godfather_.

"Then you moved to America," he realized, putting it together.

Harry nodded hesitantly. "Dumbledore and the new Minister of Magic decided it was best that I go into hiding, and since my uncle was getting a promotion, I was sent here with my family and kept under what's called a Fidelius Charm. So along with the blood wards that's connected to my aunt, I have the Fidelius Charm to hide me under where I live."

Oh, that put such a cramp to his plans. Her aunt and those blood wards, and then the fact this Fidelius Charm was on her house…Honestly, he wanted her as far away from that family as possible, and to even move in with him.

This complicated things.

"Wesley?" she interrupted his thoughts as he schemed to try to make his plans go around these obstacles somehow. "Straight after the Ministry battle, Dumbledore took me to his office."

Suddenly, he felt uneasy and watched her face closely for any signs of what she was going to tell him. How he would interpret them, he wouldn't know. He didn't even know what he was looking for. He just knew he wasn't going to like what she was going to tell him next.

"He knew the prophecy," she told him softly. He felt like lead had just been dropped into his stomach. She recounted the prophecy to him, word for word, and he just stared at her.

"So it's…" he started out slowly.

"Me or him," she finished for him, a solemn look to her eyes. Her beautiful emerald eyes. "I don't know how this is going to end or what I'm going to do, but if you would prefer to just…stay away from me from now on…"

He just kept staring at her. For once, someone he cared about was in trouble and in pain (something he'd never had to deal with because he hadn't had someone other than Wilson to care for), and also going to need to get their hands dirty. He wasn't unfamiliar with that concept, given that Wilson and he were prone to do so, but it was different. It was Harry. And she just…wasn't supposed to or have needed to get her hands dirty.

He looked down and saw his blood-stained hand, and carefully moved it and Harry's hand with the robe away from her wound to check on it. It wasn't bleeding so much, but it needed stitches.

"Do you have a needle and thread?" he asked dazedly.

Hell, he realized that straight after seeing her godfather die, that bombshell had been dropped onto her. And then she had gone to America, with no one to talk to and all of that haunting her.

"Ah, I guess Peasegood managed to bring my school trunk here after the reading. I think I've got thread in there at least, though maybe a needle. I can transfigure one if there isn't."

He headed over to it and rummaged around, finding what he was looking for. He had her sterilized them though, while he went back to kneel before her, so they would be clean enough for him, and he began to focus on her side and stitch her skin together.

"When you asked me to teach you how to shoot a gun, was this the reason why?" he asked stoically.

He hadn't thought much of her request, thinking she'd just been curious and that he could at least teach her how to handle one and be sure to know what to do when she needed to shoot someone. This…this changes things.

"Yeah," she admitted sheepishly. "It'd be an extra advantage against them, and they wouldn't know about it."

Wesley finished up with her stitches, before sitting on his haunches. He leaned up and grabbed her face and pulled her down as he leaned up slightly, kissing her forehead right where that lightning bolt scar was. He'd always been hesitant on noticing it or bringing it up, and was glad now that he had been.

He pulled away. "You don't get to lock me away like that again," he said firmly, looking her straight in the eyes.

"And I'm not a damsel in distress," she replied back stubbornly. "So don't think I am."

He watched her face carefully, but then gave a sharp nod. "I'll always want to protect you; that I can't help. But you're right and I know better now. You can take care of yourself."

For a first fight as a couple, it was as abnormal in all the ways it counted –from what they fought over to how they were handling it.

Wesley blinked. As a couple…

He looked at Harry then, who looked back inquisitively. Then he started to lean closer to her and closed his eyes, and she took the hint with her own eyes widening and then closing as well.

Of course, the moment their faces closed in together and their lips were about to connect was about the time their glasses clashed and hit each other, smashing their eyes against their lenses.

"Ow!" Harry blinked back tears, while Wesley winced.

To be fair, neither of them had ever kissed someone else with glasses, so who could have predicted that?

They looked at each other and burst into laughter, shaking their heads.

"That –"

"Was not my best moment," Wesley chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Mine either," Harry grinned widely.

"Why don't we try that again?" he gave her a matching grin.

She nodded enthusiastically and he took off his glasses. She did too and they blearily looked at each other, but was still able to somewhat see the other without their glasses. They leaned in again, and this time their lips touched.

Sure they were practically blind, but they could be blind idiots together.

Started 12/10/15 – Completed 12/11/15

 **A/n: Lol, those dorks XD Yeah, okay, I admit that I'd planned for their first kiss to be all weird and their glasses getting in the way, but oh well (ahaha). I hoped everyone liked this chapter and please remember to review!**

* * *

 **Quick Points:**

1\. Dumbledore: So I knew I wanted to write a flawed Dumbledore that is in line with canon, though I didn't know how I would write him until I just started in this chapter. Glad that worked out. I didn't want to make so obviously OOC manipulative and the bad guy, but he's also not the perfect saint either.

2\. My challenges forum: "Pandora's Box" (link on my profile), starting today, will contain challenges. I currently have a handful of Daredevil/HP crossover ideas in mind, surrounding Harry and Wesley~

* * *

 **Anon reviews:**

1\. Guest: Thank you! Sorry I didn't update as fast like before, but it's still updated pretty fast, yeah? :)

2\. Guest 2: Lol, yeah! Wesley's reactions keep coming. Thanks for enjoying!

3\. BigFan: I'm glad you like the story and the characters! I will say Wesley is safe for now from death ;) But I am glad you like Wesley and Fisk now, when you hadn't before! As for the Russian brothers, we'll see. I have plans for them~

4\. Guest 3: Thanks! I will definitely try.

 **5\. Guest 4: …So yeah –this is what you said:** **Guest** **chapter 11 . Dec 6**

 **"I'm reading this trying to figure out a few things, first being how the hell are these two interacting at all? I mean, all of the characters in Daredevil live in the United States, while Harry Potter takes place in the UK. I mean there is no reason what so ever that the two would have crossed paths. So far, there has been no mention of magic what so ever, so why even label this as a Harry Potter cross? Why not just call the characters something different and it be just a Daredevil story? Hell if you renamed all of the characters you could use it as something completely original."**

 **So…welcome to the Premature Readers group. One, the first ten chapters/drabbles are from Wesley's POV, who is Muggle and hence wouldn't mention magic. Two, the whole chapter on records pretty much is a huge hint towards the magical world. Three, you reviewed on the chapter where Harry's POV finally comes in and there's an explicit mention of MAGIC through the form of her "magical magic mirror" from Sirius that she was using to contact Ron and Hermione, never mind that chapters henceforth talk about magic (especially in recent chapters).**

 **Also (fourthly), it's FANFICTION. Who cares if they live in different places? You obviously weren't reading to know why Harry's in the US and not in the UK, and why she is. You're reading this trying to figure out how the two of interacting at all? Hell, go ask that when you read every other crossover, especially in the HP/Avengers fandom. You're the one not making any sense.**


	22. Wise Owls

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Twenty-Two: Wise Owls_

They'd fallen asleep after. It had been nice –she felt warm and safe, as she usually did when she was with him. And she realized that she had been with him for a long time, physically and emotionally. It wasn't something she was used to, because she admitted she was more than used to being closed off and not sharing things, not even with Ron or Hermione.

Years of the Dursleys had taught her to protect herself and to keep to herself. It was hard to break habit, and she had never really needed to until Wesley came along. Ironically, it didn't even seem to be much work to break her habits with him. He was able to just slip right through her cracks, like it was nothing to him.

And now here she was, ensconced in his arms, which she was finding she was doing more and more these days ever since meeting him. More often than not, she realized, Harry was usually in his apartment and in his bed.

She was startled and trying to figure out how it came to be that they started meeting over Oreos (of all things) to sharing an awkward, glasses-messy first kiss.

And the truth was, they had never actually really attached a label to themselves. They had never been just friends. They had never really been in a relationship, until maybe now. They just had never really discussed what they were to each other.

Looking down at his sleeping face, she decided that didn't matter. They hadn't really needed to, and still didn't.

If she had to describe what they were to each other to others, they were just…together. Even from the start, they had always just been together. It hadn't changed over time, if maybe grown to be stronger and truer.

"I see you're awake, Harry."

Blinking out of her thoughts, she turned to see Dumbledore sitting by the fireplace, idly flicking his wand towards the roaring fire and making shapes of magical creatures. At the sight of a dragon, Harry carefully got out of the bed and headed towards him, sitting at the chair opposite. A quick glance at the window showed through the crack between the closed curtains that it was dark and probably nighttime.

"Peasegood is doing alright. He's been stabilized and they quickly reversed the spell on him, which was resulting in his wound being unable to close earlier," Dumbledore told her solemnly.

"That's good news," Harry nodded slightly.

He looked over to the still sleeping man on the bed, his lips upturning slightly. "Will you tell me how you met?"

Blinking owlishly and caught off guard, Harry took one glance at Wesley before turning to Dumbledore and unsurely began to talk about the time they met to all the way to how Wesley had to be brought here and tagged along with her and Peasegood.

Dumbledore chuckled lightly. "Sounds like he found you from the beginning. Remarkably, I knew another James that seemed to have been smitten straight from the start –your own father seemed to have been struck by your mother from the moment he laid eyes on her. At least, unlike Lily, you seem to be a lot more amiable and agreeable to Mr. Wesley from the outset, unlike your poor father."

Harry grinned then. "Good thing my dad was persistent then."

"He was," Dumbledore agreed. His eyes flicked towards Wesley. "It seems you've met a stubborn James of your own though."

She couldn't help laughing quietly then because it was true. Wesley was stubborn, but so was she and they made quite the pair.

He smiled wistfully into the fire. "I knew a stubborn young man once." His smile fell. "It was a long time ago, and I was not nearly as stubborn to have held onto him. If I had, perhaps things could have changed…"

Harry couldn't help but stare at Dumbledore, knowing he had divulged a secret so closely guarded to her, even if it had been vague. She had a feeling it wasn't something just anyone knew.

"I am not a perfect man," he said suddenly, causing her to once again be shocked. Funny thing is, many people thought he was and looked to him as so. She was even guilty of that, though more recently she had faltered in that thought. "Many things that have been decided by me, I have second-guessed over and over, especially when it has come to you."

Harry stayed quiet, not sure what to say to that. So she pressed her lips closed and kept listening.

"I sent you to live with the Dursleys because Petunia is your last living blood relative, at least one that had no dangerous connections to be worried of. As you know, most Pureblood families are practically related to each other in some way. For you, aside from Petunia, your closest and most immediate blood ties would have been to the Blacks, considering your aunt was Dorea Potter, a Black that married Charlus Potter, cousin to your father. Do you understand the consequences of that?"

Harry, while probably not as smart as Hermione, had a sharp mind herself and did manage to connect those dots. The only free Black at the time and closest blood relative she had would have been Narcissa Malfoy née Black. She could have gone to the Malfoys, and she inwardly shuddered at the thought of living with them and being raised by Lucius Malfoy of all people. If she would have even been raised.

"Petunia, aside from my dearest hope she would move on from her lasting grudge against your mother and to raise and love you as her own, was the next best candidate to be the blood relative to raise you and bring up those blood wards that were created due to the protection your mother's sacrifice created."

"There have been plenty of mothers who have sacrificed themselves for their children though," she was sure. Why was she special, and what had her mother done different?

Dumbledore nodded. "True. But there are many mitigating factors. The biggest factor of them all, is why I implore you to remember and ingrain in you the thought of love being the most powerful thing in the world. Your mother loved you so much that when faced with the choice of living and moving aside from you, she _consciously_ chose death. She was actually given a choice and she made her choice for you. Her sacrifice enacted a very powerful and ancient counter-charm known as sacrificial protection. Because of this, Voldemort cannot touch you…not even after using your blood for his regeneration. In fact, it is to my belief that his doing so has actually strengthened the protection."

Harry had to take a moment. It was a lot to take it all in. Still…

"How does blood and the protection really work together?" Because she knew she and Petunia had never really seen each other as family or loved each other, and she worried that something had messed up along the way.

"Because of the sacrificial protection, I was able to cast the correlating Bond of Blood charm that would have given you additional protection. All it required after the sacrificial protection, was for you to have a blood relative take you in. As I told you before, even if grudgingly and resentfully, Petunia had taken you in and had at least kept you safe for these past years. So long as you call it home, it will be home and will be safe."

"But I don't think of it as –" A sharp look from him caused her to quiet and not finish out what she'd almost blurted out.

Still, what he was saying to her was a lot of what he said before. Only he was clearer and more detailed, and so she was able to fully understand.

"I know how hard it is to live there, and after knowing what you have gone through in that house, a part of me wishes I had made another choice or found some other way," Dumbledore frowned. "Another part of me believes I chose right, because it was the best protection I could have afforded you."

She also, at the moment, remembered what Dumbledore told her about love and how deeply powerful it was, even to have its own room in the Department of Mysteries. She couldn't help a glance towards Wesley, and she bit her lip in thought.

"It was easier to make that choice before, when you were a babe," Dumbledore confessed then. "I had not known you truly, and after leaving you there, it was easier with the distance. But now the years have gone by, and I have come to know you much more closely and it is difficult to separate myself from the decisions I have to make. For now I only wish for your happiness."

She swallowed heavily and watched him almost deflate in his chair. It was shocking to see him almost vulnerable.

"Does he make you happy?" he said suddenly, and she was startled enough to look at him and see him looking at Wesley's sleeping figure.

She breathed in deeply. "…He does," she answered certainly.

He smiled faintly. "The Bond of Blood charm I cast is not nearly as strong as I hoped it would be. The declining relationship between you and your relatives, the lack of any substantial love, and the way you are very nearly close to not thinking of it as home without outright saying it…The Fidelius Charm, though it has its flaws as evidenced before with your parents, has at least done well so far now. Find a home with him. A nice comfortable home, and I shall recast the Fidelius there."

Harry was speechless.

"I wish I had found out about Sirius much sooner," Dumbledore murmured. "But after a little over a decade of war, I had many duties to attend to and the whole of Europe's Wizarding World counting on me to help clean up and rebuild us into what everyone hoped was a new beginning of peace. He would have given you a happy home, and I wish I did not believe he was as guilty as everyone else had."

"I wish my parents had told someone they'd changed Secret Keepers," she said softly, gazing into the fire. "But then there are a lot of what ifs."

"Indeed. And it is best for us to focus on the present and the future, and only look back to the past when we must."

They kept quiet for a moment before Dumbledore clapped his hands once and stood up.

"Come, Harry! There is still time for me to at least teach you Apparition before I must go return to Hogwarts," he said cheerfully. "I have a feeling you'll be a quick study."

Excited, she stood up and went to his side.

"We'll just leave your companion to sleep a little while longer," he said lightly.

As he lifted the Anti-Apparition Jinx, she had the thought that neither of them really believed that Wesley had been asleep that whole time.

* * *

After she'd gotten back from her lesson on Apparition with Dumbledore, she had slipped back into bed and hesitated before settling herself closer to Wesley (who really was now asleep again). It took a moment, before she went to sleep as well.

Morning dawned bright and early though, so she woke up easily and before Wesley. She took that time to take a shower, get cleaned, dressed and ready for the day, and she had just brought up breakfast by the time Wesley was up.

He rubbed his face tiredly, looking at her after with bleary eyes.

"You know, I'm still acclimating to you being a witch, everything currently surrounding me being magical, and apparently the world's more screwed on its axis than I thought it was," he told her sardonically. "And here I thought that aliens dropping from the sky would be the weirdest thing I'd see."

She shrugged, but grinned slightly at him. "I would still like to see that. It's still hard to believe."

He snorted. " _That's_ hard to believe?" At her chuckle, he shook his head. "How was your lesson last night anyway?"

"Good," she was unsurprised to know that he knew and mentioned it, given her thoughts last night about him not actually being asleep. He'd probably woken up around the time she'd left his side, as she was sure she hadn't been as careful as she thought she'd be leaving it. "I didn't have that hard a time of it, so I can pretty much just Apparate around now."

"I see," he said while putting on his glasses. "That's useful, I suppose."

Harry laughed at him. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

He shook his head ruefully, and she began to explain to him the methods of magical transportation. He made a face at the end of it.

"I'm not going to like any of them, am I?"

"You might like flying on a broom," she quipped. "But I'm biased and I love flying."

"Of course you are. Well, if anything, I'll try it for you, I suppose," he pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Speaking of last night, should we go house hunting immediately or give or take a few days?" he smirked at her.

She blushed lightly. "Um, I guess sooner is fine?"

"Then I'll start looking around once we get home," he said decisively. "I'll have to inform Wilson that I'll be moving of course, and all the other necessary details –minus you being a witch and doing magic."

Harry hesitated. "I know you don't like keeping secrets from him –"

"It's fine," Wesley gave her a look. "It's _your_ secret, and a very heavy one at that. He'd understand."

She gave him a small smile and, before she'd lose her nerve, darted closer to him and pecked his lips, blushing again. He blinked, having been surprised.

"Again," he demanded, when he clued back in to what she'd done. Laughing at him, she gave him an exasperated look, to which he just raised an eyebrow at her. Deciding to give in and indulge him, she came close again and leaned down to kiss him.

Only this time Wesley was prepared and surged up from the bed to grab hold of her, taking off his glasses as he slanted his lips against hers and kissed her thoroughly. If their first kiss had been sweet, this one was full of passion as his tongue traced against her lips, parting them and slipping into her mouth easily. They had gotten so into it that they hadn't noticed the door open and close, until someone cleared their throat and they whipped apart to see an amused Dumbledore by the door.

Wesley looked calm, but Harry was sure her face was burning red and she wanted to hide under the covers. Of all the people to get caught snogging by, it had to be Dumbledore. That was just mortifying!

"After breakfast, if you two are ready, I will create a Portkey that will send you back to America," he informed them. "Eat up!"

Wesley minutely cringed. "I'll pass," he said neutrally. "I'll just take a shower and get ready, and eat back home. I'd rather not…throw it all up."

"Very well. We'll see you after," Dumbledore nodded to him.

As Wesley went off to take a shower, Harry focused on her breakfast, with Dumbledore reiterating Peasegood's status. He then began informing her of what the Order was up to, most specifically mentioning that Remus was trying to talk to the werewolves but no progress had really been made on that front.

Harry frowned at that and hoped Remus was alright. When she saw him at the Will Reading yesterday, he seemed fine (if tired), but if he was doing something potentially dangerous…

"What's that?" she heard Wesley asking from behind her, and she could guess he was done getting ready.

Dumbledore picked up what Wesley had been pointing at.

"Ah, a special edition of the Sunday Prophet and some other newspapers and magazines I thought Harry would like, since she wouldn't really be able to receive any of Britain's news in America," Dumbledore handed them over.

She curiously grabbed them, spotting the first page of the Sunday Prophet while Wesley leaned over her shoulder to read.

 _ **Clash of the Titans?**_

 _By Barny Halton_

 _Yesterday, there was a clear attack in broad daylight in the middle of the Leaky Cauldron. While there, it was reported that Albus Dumbledore himself, current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, former Supreme Mugwump for the International Confederation of Wizards (still member), and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot was in attendance and had battled several Death Eaters in the attack._

 _However, along with Dumbledore, also seen was Harry Potter, the Girl Who Lived and rumored to be the Chosen One. In a grand battle against the dark forces, it is said by witnesses that both magical titans attacked their enemies and defended the pub with fervor and were quick to put down the Death Eaters that threatened the safety of the Leaky Cauldron and its compatriots, along with the whole of Diagon Alley had the battle escalated and moved onto the magical alley._

 _It would be this reporter's duty to remind all that Lady Potter-Black (titles claimed as of that same day) hadn't been seen at the end of her fifth year after the Battle of the Ministry, where You Know Who's return was revealed. She had been reportedly taken and moved to an unknown location. It could be this reporter's speculation that she is indeed in training to defeat the Dark Lord, as evidence shown by her prowess in battle yesterday._

 _Could Potter really be training for her role as the Chosen One to defeat the Dark Lord? Stay tune to find out._

"I'm surprised this wasn't in the Evening Prophet last night," Harry noted, frowning as she put the paper down. "It's…pretty accurate surprisingly, if embellished."

"Ah yes, that article," Dumbledore hmmed. "I was more interested in the article on page 4."

Blinking bemusedly at the headmaster, Harry turned to page four of the newspaper and nearly choked on her breath.

 _ **Future Mr. Potter?**_

 _By Eilena Fitzgerald_

 _Yesterday, the reclusive and rumored to be hidden away Harry Potter (now reportedly Lady Potter-Black) was spotted inside of Gringotts. But the Chosen One wasn't alone –she was spotted in an intimate embrace with an older man. At this moment, there are no current leads or clues as to who he is. What is known and obvious is the closeness he had to Lady Potter-Black._

 _It can be agreed that Lady Potter-Black has grown over the years to be a very striking, beautiful young lady, and considered one of the most (if not the most) sought after bachelorettes in the Wizarding World. It can only be to the eternal frustration of wizards and witches all over the world to wonder who is this man who has captured the interest of the Lady Potter-Black, and if he is truly the future Mr. Potter (and most importantly, future Consort Potter-Black)._

Harry's face was probably stained red by now. And by the look on Dumbledore's face, he was actually having a go at her and teasing her. That was just… _wrong_. It's Dumbledore after all. Then again…Wesley's choked off laugh caught her attention, and she glared at him.

"It's not funny," she grumbled.

"It is," a smile was playing on his lips. "I've never been the subject of a gossip column before. I don't think I ever expected I would be! That's quite…unexpected. And hilarious."

"Geez, quiet you," she huffed. Then she gave Dumbledore the stink eye. "And you, Headmaster…You should act your age," if there was a pout on her lips, then so be it.

"I am 114, thank you very much," Dumbledore told her rather smugly. "That's still quite young by wizarding standards. Well, by my standards."

She rolled her eyes, while Wesley coughed slightly.

"1-114…" he was muttering to himself.

"I would have thought that Witch Weekly would have reported this first, since they're the ones I saw at Gringotts and who got a picture and all," Harry commented, thinking about it.

"Hm, I might have heard somewhere that Witch Weekly is extremely displeased that the Prophet stole and wrote about their story first," Dumbledore admitted. "They decided to print out an early, special edition of Witch Weekly, and that they're at least pleased to have been able to have kept their picture under wraps and publish it first. I believe it's with the other newspaper and magazines I handed you."

Curious, if slightly dreadful, Harry went through the stack and finally came upon said magazine. There, in bright and bold letters, was the main headline: **"Lady Potter-Black and Mysterious Lover!"**

And brandished all across the page was the picture of Wesley and her at Gringotts, in what was clearly too intimate an embrace as again and again the magical photo depicted him bringing her closer to him and holding her close, and then kissing her forehead.

She didn't know what she was more embarrassed by –the photo or that ridiculous title. She chanced a glance at Wesley, only to see his mouth twitching and obviously wanting to break into laughter.

"It's not funny," she repeated weakly.

It kind of was, in a really strange way. She mostly just wanted to bang her head on the table and ask whatever higher power there was why her? She really should have expected this by now, and just stop caring. If she did, she would be better off and wouldn't be on the verge of turning into a tomato with her face becoming red all the time.

"Ready to go, you two?" Dumbledore asked and she nodded. She looked to Wesley, who also gestured an okay, and soon enough Dumbledore had created another International Portkey for them to use.

Without further delay, he handed it to them and they disappeared.

* * *

They landed roughly on their feet to the side of the Dursley home, where upon Wesley looked at it in distaste after having to take a moment to shake off his nausea.

"Sounds like I get to live with you," she chirped up, trying to bring his attention to that instead. He blinked before a wide smile broke out on his face.

"That you do. We'll have to find a time to go look at houses together. Though while you're at school, I'll make sure to look up new homes for your approval," he said, a tinge of excitement in his voice.

She couldn't help grinning back slightly herself. It was kind of really nice to think she'd be going to look for homes with him. A place of her own, and with him…

"I know it's Sunday, but did you have any plans today I don't know about?" Wesley asked suddenly.

Distracted from her thoughts, she looked back on what he asked and thought about it, shaking her head. "I don't."

He had a grim face on now, and gestured to his still parked car. "Come with me, alright?"

Nodding, feeling a little bewildered, Harry followed him to his car and then stayed quiet as he drove off. When she recognized where he'd taken her to, she turned to him.

"Are we shooting today then?" she asked curiously, though she felt uneasy by the grim look still on his face and the shake of his head.

Once inside, he led her to a place in the back that had a table and made her sit down at it. He left for a moment, coming back with a bag with an assortment of firearms and setting it on the floor beside the table. Then he took the one he used personally, emptied the cartridge, and then firmly placed it in front of her.

"Uh, Wesley?" she looked at him questioningly.

"I was under the impression that you just wanted to know how to shoot and can use a gun," his voice was slightly clipped. "And I thought it would be fine to just teach you how to handle one correctly and what to expect. But if you are going to actually _use_ it in a fight, then you need to know what you're using much more in depth."

His tone and face softened towards her. "From what I hear, I'm hearing things I don't like. I don't like the fact you're in danger, and I don't like understanding that you need to learn this basically for survival. But since you want to learn this, _need_ to learn this…then you're going to learn it properly, as if you're a professional. That starts with knowing your firearm inside and out. Before you get back to shooting, I want you to take my gun, disassemble it, and then reassemble it. When you get to the point where you can do it easily and without thinking, and in as little time as it takes to tie one's shoes, then we'll move on to another firearm. When you've learned these, we'll move onto something else."

Harry was only able to stare at him. She was also caught off guard by his seriousness. "So, um…do I get any instructions how to do this?"

He smiled slightly. "Let's see how you do on your own, and then I'll give the instructions on how to do it."

She huffed quietly, but did begin to focus on the gun in front of her. "Did you need to call Wilson? We did kind of just disappear yesterday, without any word."

He frowned to himself, and searched out his phone from his pocket. However, once he took it out, he stared at it in surprise.

"What the hell happened to my phone?"

* * *

"Why is it so freaking hard to contact this guy?!"

Foggy's exclamation made Matt quirk his lips a little.

"Perhaps he's busy," Matt somehow got the feeling Wesley was a rather busy man, even before he started to dedicate his time to Harry.

Foggy made a strangled sort of noise that thoroughly amused Matt. "His phone sounds out of service! I would have left a message on his voicemail, if I could, but nothing's picking up at all."

"We'll see again later. Meantime, what do you have?"

At this, Foggy perked up. "I found those teachers. Says they're willing to testify in person, if we can manage to bring them over. I doubt that guy isn't willing to fork over some money to do so."

"Mm," Matt was thoughtful. "And we have those videos I managed to capture off of the offenders themselves."

Foggy laughed wholeheartedly at that. "Now that was fantastic! You made sure not to coerce them, use leading questions, or anything. They gave up all that themselves."

"Yes, they probably shot themselves in the foot, but they'll probably try to retract their statements. Probably even say that I misled them somehow."

"They can try to make the evidence inadmissible, but I doubt they can. You didn't do anything wrong," Foggy rolled his eyes. "They're the ones who spoke up and were caught on tape doing so. It's as bad as a confession, and you made sure you had their permission to record everything. Let's see them back out of that."

Matt chuckled quietly. "We'll just have to continue gathering evidence and witnesses, and make sure it's ironclad then."

Foggy agreed, though Matt stayed quiet.

"What does she look like?" Matt spoke suddenly. "Harry?"

"Harry? Mr. Wesley's girl? Uh, oh wow. I mean she is wow and all –"

"Foggy," Matt cut him off and gave him a look, which was intimidating given his blindness.

"Yeah…okay. She's really pretty," Foggy's voice sounded dreamy then. "Kind of pale. Milky skin color, you know? Slender and a little short. Dark, raven-colored hair, I guess. It's a little curly too. She's got a lightning bolt shaped scar on her forehead. It's kind of cool looking actually. But her eyes! I think those are her prettiest and most notable features. They're a really bright emerald."

"She sounds lovely," Matt murmured.

"She totally is! Too bad she's with that guy," Foggy sighed to himself, before going back to shuffling through the papers in his hands.

Matt tried to picture her in his mind, and thought that he'd might like to know how she looked like when he finally confronted her about how and why she saved him not that long ago.

Started 12/13/15 – Completed 12/18/15

 **A/n: Ugh, this should have been finished and published a while ago, on Monday. Too much got in the way . I'll try to do my best to get another chapter up on Monday! If you look on my profile, there's a link to my forum at the end of it, where I just posted a bunch of Wesley/Harry-centered challenge prompts! Anyway check it out and please review!**


	23. Girl Almighty

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Twenty-Three: Girl Almighty_

"So…magic isn't really…great with electronics," Wesley asked as he fiddled with his broken phone, while Harry continued to handle the parts of his gun.

"Yeah, technically magic tends to mess up anything electronic," Harry shrugged off, sliding the cartridge back in and finally finishing. "Oh! I have a phone you can use. I bought it awhile back, but I didn't know how to, uh… ask for your number," her cheeks tinged red. She brought out a pouch from somewhere and opened it, pointing her wand into it and muttering something. Her phone flew out of the pouch and she caught it easily.

"Good reflexes," he commented as he accepted the phone from her. Before he could check in on Wilson, he added in his number to her phone, and then called his friend.

"Wilson, are you alright? I know I've been unable to be called, but –"

"Wesley, it's alright. I haven't had any need of you, though I did try to call once. Since you hadn't picked up, I thought it best to not try again, especially given that the current issue I wanted to talk about wasn't something I thought you could help me with. Actually, there _is_ someone that could help me that we both know. Do you know how I could contact Harry?"

Wesley's eyebrows flew up and he glanced at the girl next to him, who noticed his attention and looked inquisitively at him.

"Actually, she's right next to me –"

"Ah, good. Put her on, please," Wilson cut him off, his strangely anxious voice becoming calmer. Wesley blinked before he put his hand on the phone and looked at Harry in confusion. "Wilson would like to talk to you."

Harry looked as confused as he looked and felt, but accepted her phone back.

"Wilson?"

"Harry, it's good to hear from you. How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks. Was there something I could do for you?"

"Yes, actually. To be honest, I was so preoccupied yesterday on wondering how to contact Miss Marianna, that I couldn't help but stare at my phone the entire time," Wilson's confession made Harry almost copy Wesley's earlier reaction before he'd commented that she'd been next to him.

She also tried to imagine that –Wilson Fisk staring bemusedly and unsurely at his phone all day (Would he have really stared at it _all day_? He was exaggerating, right?), trying to figure out what to say to the woman they'd met at the art gallery, and working up the nerve to even go through with calling.

"Oh. I see," she could kick herself. She needed something more to say than that! Poor Wilson was probably frazzled (But a man like him, frazzled?). "Did you ever manage it?"

"Goodness no. I ended up deciding to try to get your advice on how to proceed first. I called Wesley, hoping he could help me get into contact with you, but for some reason his phone was…out of service, I believe? After, I went back to worrying how to contact Miss Marianna." She wondered if he thought of anything else during that time.

Harry flinched. "Ah, right. That would be my fault. I had to go somewhere yesterday and realized I was late to getting to my ride, and Wesley drove me back to my house that morning, where I was supposed to meet the person who was going to take me to my godfather's Will Reading. It was last minute, but Wesley decided to come along and offer his support, and his phone died sometime yesterday. He contacted you now with my phone."

"Oh –your…godfather's will reading? I…apologize and you have my sincerest condolences."

"It's fine," she told him tiredly. "You hadn't known, and Wesley hadn't even known until yesterday either. Thank you for your thoughts though, Wilson."

"Of course, anytime. As for this being your phone, do you mind if I save your number as well?"

"I don't mind at all! Whenever you need to call me, I'm always willing to be an ear," Harry found that she had quickly become fond of Wilson, despite the handful (but very meaningful) meetings they had, especially the last time with the two of them at the art gallery. "As for Vanessa, you know…you could just personally drop by the art gallery again and just ask her out. That way, it'll be too late for you to back out."

She could picture him quietly, or silently in his head, grumbling that he wouldn't "back off" (despite the fact he totally would) as he seemed the type to do so.

"…Could you, perhaps, accompany me then?" Though taken aback, Harry was quick to answer in the affirmative. "Thank you, Harry. As for Wesley, please convey to him that I'll be fine for today and for him to enjoy his day with you."

"No problem. Goodbye, Wilson!"

"Goodbye, Harry. I shall call or text you then."

She hung up and Wesley gave her a strange look. "What was that about?"

Harry laughed a little. "Um, Wilson wanted my help on trying to contact –well, ask out –a woman we met at the art gallery we went to on Friday. I think, sometime soon, I'll be going with him to the art gallery to help him out."

Wesley looked like he wasn't sure how to take that. But then he took out his own phone and waved it a bit. "Any way for me to recover anything on here?"

Harry narrowed her eyes at it. "You know…I'm not sure. Maybe if we take it to the shop where I got my phone, they can do something for it?"

He nodded, but then asked, "Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

Suddenly, Wesley had the smuggest smirk on his face. "That time in the office, where I was touching your face and the computer broke…that was you, wasn't it?"

Harry turned red and smacked his arm. "You're such a smug jerk," she grumbled.

"I have to say, I do owe you for that though. It completely helped me out –"

She was so going to get her comeuppance. Grabbing his arm, she Apparated close by to Vertical Alley, only to immediately feel bad as once they landed on their feet, Wesley yanked away from her and dry heaved as he bent at the waist.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said in distress. "I got annoyed with you and thought I'd get back at you, but I hadn't meant to make you sick or upset! Are you okay?!" Guilt filled her up and she felt absolutely horrible.

He held up a hand, still in the same position. "G-give me a moment." After he finally gained back his composure, he stood up to see Harry anxiously wringing her hands and watching him carefully. "Ah well, you're right. I deserved that."

"No, you didn't," Harry protested, growing in distress.

Wesley shook his head. "Let's just forget it, okay? I'll just get you back somehow," he gave her a look that had her worried, but the small smile on his lips made her feel the hysterical laugh that was bubbling up.

"If it makes you feel better, the first time I Apparated, I threw up too," she admitted. "The second time wasn't much better…It was actually quite worse. I threw up on Dumbledore."

At that, he couldn't help barking out a laugh.

"Ready to go in?" she asked him, her cheeks still pinking slightly at the remembrance of that time.

Wesley nodded and then she grabbed his hand and led him towards a rather smallish, unimpressive building. He should have known better, as entering inside caused him to be face to face with a humongous mall structure.

"This place is completely deceiving," he said dryly, looking around and trying to keep his composure at seeing even more magical things.

"I know, right? Who would have thought from the outside," Harry agreed enthusiastically.

He allowed himself to be pulled along, ending up stopping in front of the mall map.

"It's here, so we can head there first. You haven't had breakfast and it's nearing lunch, so we can go and get something to eat afterwards, alright? Then we can check out the other places together?" Harry asked hesitantly, looking at him unsurely.

"That would be lovely," he smiled at her. "Does this place have anywhere that sells books?"

She looked back at the map, before pointing to a spot. "Yeah. Looks like Magicium & Arcania is the only book place here. We can go there first, after we eat."

Wesley admitted that he definitely would like to find some reading material. He didn't like feeling so lost, and would like to be able to immerse himself in information and research what he can so that he would be more familiar with Harry's world and not be totally ignorant. It was only right anyway –as his chosen partner, it was part of his responsibility to show how much he cared and accepted that part of her, enough to want to learn about it and be a part of it somehow.

Harry grabbed his hand and started to lead him to the store, to which it wasn't long until he reached it. They entered and was immediately greeted by someone.

"Hi! I'm Derrick Fowl and the owner of the shop. Can I help –Oh! I helped you last time, hadn't I?" a man at least a decade older (Wesley didn't want to be sure of that, considering the age he thought Dumbledore was, and had been so, so wrong…) than Wesley was.

"Hello, Mr. Fowl," Harry smiled slightly. "I was hoping you could help my..." Here, she looked at him in embarrassment, before clearing her throat, "B-boyfriend out. His phone was Muggle-make and it was recently exposed to magic on a large scale, so it basically shorted. Is there anything you can do for it?"

Wesley gave an amused, fond smile. His… _girlfriend_ was always so unfairly cute. Struggling to call him her boyfriend (as unexpected the title was –though appropriate, he supposed) was not something he'd expected would give her much trouble.

"Of course! It'll take time, so I'll have to close up shop. It'll be even easier to do if you want to transfer the data to a new phone, particularly a more magical-make as those will be more durable to magical exposure. Look around! I'm sure there's something you would like, Mister…"

"Wesley," he answered. "And that would be wonderful. I will definitely take my time to do so, Mr. Fowl."

As the man went to close the door and make sure there was a sign stating he was closed, Wesley and Harry walked around. At a particular spot, Wesley's eyebrows raised.

"They have Stark phones?"

Harry looked to see what he was talking about, but still wasn't sure. "I bought that phone," she pointed at a certain model of the Stark phones. "What does being a Stark phone mean?"

Wesley's lips twitched. "We're going to need to teach the other about each other's worlds, aren't we?"

"Ah, well, I have been rather out of touch with the Muggle world," she gave him a laughing grin.

"Anyway," he started, "Tony Stark. Iron Man. One of the Avengers and who helps save the world on a regular basis. Before all that, he owned and was CEO of his company, before he handed off the reigns to his former personal assistant so he could focus on other things, like being a superhero. These phones come from his company."

"Correct! My store has managed to become a distributor of some Stark phones, though they are configured here to be compatible with magical exposure and some purely magical aspects," Mr. Fowl came around to them. "Found something?"

Wesley plucked one of the Stark phones from its display. "I had actually been eying this phone for a while. Given how I need a new phone, especially one that can handle magical exposure, it's convenient that I can purchase this one now."

"Excellent! Let me see your old phone as well, and I can work on transferring the data to your new phone. It'll take around an hour, so you can look around the mall."

The two nodded and left the store, intending to grab something to eat.

"So," he couldn't help it. He had almost a sadistic need to tease the hell out of her sometimes. "Boyfriend?"

The bright red flush on her cheeks always brought him pleasure.

"I don't really label us, and hadn't ever. I kind of still don't…but it slipped out and it was kind of nice," she mumbled at the end.

"Really?" he drawled. "As far as I was concerned, I thought you were always my girlfriend."

She huffed in exasperation. "You really are such a smug jerk, you know?"

"So I've been told," he grinned as smugly as she accused him of. "Plenty of times, by plenty of people."

They stopped in front of a restaurant called "Morgana's Garden", where they waited a minute before they were seated. Watching Wesley's face become relieved as he looked at the menu, Harry's lips twitched.

"Most of what we eat are just regular food," she told him, fully grinning by then. "They're some things that are invented from the Wizarding World though. Ohh! They have pumpkin juice. I might have that –but they have butterbeer as well! It's quite cold right now, so perhaps I'll have that instead."

He raised an eyebrow at her, his much rather signature look.

"If you don't want to get one to try yourself, I'll let you taste some of mine," she held back her laugh at his wary look. "Trust me, it's not bad."

He looked over the menu, deciding on having a lobster entrée and then went over the drinks. He was intrigued by the elderflower wine, commenting on it to Harry, though he was curious about the gillywater and the Odgen's Old Firewhiskey.

"I usually like pairing wine with my meals," he told her. "Though it's rather early, so either only a single glass or even half of one will do."

Harry snorted and gave him a mischievous grin. "You drink wine with Oreos."

"…On your advisement, I've taken to substituting with milk."

" _Much_ better."

They ordered their drinks and food and then waited. While they waited though, Wesley had something on his mind that bothered him a bit.

"Muggles are those without magic, right? Like myself?"

"Yeah. Although, according to Peasegood, American magicals call Muggle 'No-Maj'. It has a less easier flow to say, but it actually makes more sense than Muggles," Harry thought about it.

"I see," he also remembered what she'd said about Muggles and all that blood purity stuff from back home. "I was wondering, having remembered what you've been telling me about the blood purity stuff back in Europe…it's a lot like racism for us Muggles, if not as strictly entwined into society, especially these days."

He was well aware racism was alive and still very potent in some parts of the world, especially in America, where it was largely focused on because of how much America was diverse and had such opinionated people and where there was a very active fight against it (and opposite, still those who were racist in the first place). And while there was some racism mixed into Muggle politics, and other different types of xenophobia…he didn't think he'd ever seen it in the degree it was in the Wizarding World. To be honest, even if what he'd heard was only as much from Harry, he still couldn't believe such a backwards, stuck in time, Medieval-aged society existed.

He told Harry that, as well as adding on a worry he'd thought of. "I am a Muggle. Does that…affect you?"

Her grimace told him a lot. "Not personally, meaning I don't care and I don't care what anyone says. But…well, you knowing is kind of illegal and I can get into so much trouble if someone knew I'd let you know about all this."

He hadn't thought of that. "Is that why Peasegood was upset and rather aggressive when I came yesterday morning?"

"Ah, yes. He'd wanted to erase your memories, which is the usual for our world. I suppose we don't want another witch hunt or something."

At that, he couldn't help the image popping up of Harry burning at the stake and he shivered. He also remembered her saying she didn't care and not caring about what others said, which brought to mind the news articles.

"If it were found out that you were…dating a Muggle. What would the reaction be?" he asked, keeping calm. Her hesitation answered without her saying anything. "Ah. So it won't be taken very well, I take it."

She gave him an unhappy look, but nodded needlessly.

Wesley could see why though. "It would be understandable, given how you are of old lines. Combined with your looks and other prestige, I'm probably an obstacle to all the others, who would consider themselves better and more proper suitors to you, than a Muggle like myself," he stated factually. He also remembered that she was considered one of the most sought after bachelorettes, and estimated that the likelihood of him being accepted easily by her world was nil.

"My family and friends accept you, and that's all that matters," she said stubbornly. "Everyone else are rubbish."

"What of the few that do accept me?" he kept in his laugh.

"Then I'll accept what they have to say."

He laughed quietly then and felt much better, but there were lingering doubts and insecurities that he didn't voice. It would upset Harry more after all, and that was something he would avoid at all costs.

Their food came in then, and they started to eat and made only small talk then. He did try her butterbeer, surprised at how tasty it actually was. He was also very impressed with the elderflower wine and decided it was probably his favorite wine and the best he'd ever tasted.

Afterwards, though, he looked at the bill and didn't understand the amount at all. He just realized that he wouldn't be able to contribute to the bill, or even for the books he had been hoping to buy, especially as even if he did have money, he would have to get it converted and he had no idea where he could –or how much the conversion was.

"Is there a way to convert money in this world?" he asked her suddenly.

Startled from looking at the bill, Harry set it down after placing her card in it. He would like to ask about that too.

"I don't know. The only place I know that converts money is Gringotts, our only Wizarding bank, and that's all the way over in England. I haven't been around the American Wizarding World or America in general long enough, to really have a clue."

"That's…disheartening," he murmured. He gave her a sigh. "I would have to rely on you for money today and for however long until I can figure out a way to convert the money I have."

She gave him an amused look. "Don't look so down. I owe you anyway, Mr. Jewels and Gifts."

He shrugged slightly. "I'm used to being the one paying."

Harry retrieved her card from the bill folder, idly thinking it was useful to just place it against the bill payment information and it magically deducting that way. She waved the card at Wesley.

"I can pay now, so I'd like to be able to pay for you too, you know," that was meant to be more upbeat, but somehow her tone became too shy in the middle of that.

He clasped his hands and placed his chin on them, leaning forward and smirking at her.

"Perhaps then, I shall now enjoy the life of a kept man," his smirk widened obscenely, more so as Harry's face turned red.

"I'm still wondering how I agreed to being near you, Wesley."

"I'm charming."

"Unfortunately."

Having finished eating and paying for their meal, they debated whether to check out the bookstore already, or go back to the phone store and see if the owner was done. Looking at the time, it was close enough to an hour for them to go back and check in. After knocking on the glass door, Mr. Fowl came and granted them entrance.

"Just about done," he said proudly. "And I believe, given that Mr. Wesley is…" here, he hesitated as he looked at the two "a No-Maj, I've made a few adjustments that will help."

"How did you know he's a Muggle?" Harry asked in alarm, at the same time Wesley warily asked, "What kind of adjustments?"

"I put things together from what little was said and what was needed for him, just like I know you're probably British by your accent and the use of the term Muggle," Mr. Fowl answered Harry first, smiling slightly. Then he turned to Wesley. "Most of the phones here have a No-Maj mode and a magical mode. When in contact with a No-Maj, the magical mode is automatically deactivated and it will appear to be just a normal phone. I thought you would appreciate having that feature off when it comes to you, though when in contact with anyone else, it'll turn on. I'll only need a drop of your blood to activate those runes."

"Which will be fine," Wesley cut in, just as Harry look to protest. He gave her a reassuring smile.

He was directed to cut his finger above some odd markings on the inside of the phone, and afterwards Harry healed the cut and the phone was put together. Wesley retrieved his old phone that he would dispose of later, while taking his new phone and examining it curiously.

"Would the two of you need any accessories?" Mr. Fowl asked them, pointing out the cases. "Our phones are spelled to be unbreakable, so dropping them does nothing, nor does water short them out. They run off of magic, usually by the natural magic around us, but a witch or wizard can give them a jolt and speed the recharge. If anything, we've got cases that can be spelled to make sure the phone can never be stolen off one's person, removed by any reason aside from the owner's hand, and will recall the phone back to it if it was taken or can't be found at hand."

This was definitely useful and something Wesley had to take an advantage of. It was something he'd no doubt would appreciate, given the criminal enterprise he was used to.

So the two of them found a pair they liked, and Wesley withheld his sigh and kept quiet as Harry paid for everything. Then they were off to the bookstore, the size of which caused him to take a minute pause and hide his awe. And then they actually entered the place and Wesley had to stay and just take it all in, because the inside was even bigger than he'd thought.

"I…have no idea where to start."

The sheer expanse of the place was guaranteed to make him get lost, and the volume of the collection of the books would take months (years even) for him to ever get through.

"Flourish and Blotts is pretty big, but nowhere near this," Harry whistled, impressed. "And this is pretty organized and spacey, opposite of Flourish and Blotts. Hermione would love this place."

Wesley made an agreeing noise, while inwardly collecting himself and organizing his thoughts. What were the priority in what he had to learn?

"You already know what you need, don't you?" he asked her, having suspected.

She nodded. "I'll probably collect the books I'd need if I were going to Hogwarts this year, maybe even see if I can collect the books for whatever American school here that teaches magic to Americans. I'll also look into any extra reading on advanced dueling techniques, hopefully an Animagus training book, and if I'm luckier –maybe something on Occlumency and Legilimency."

Wesley could see where she was coming from and why she needed books on those. "I see. Why don't you go ahead and find a worker to get those, and I'll find another and go about collecting what I need? I think I have a rough idea of what I want to look into first, and if anything, this place will still be here, right?"

They traded amused grins. Return trips seemed inevitable.

As he watched her walk off, he decided that he was going to make sure he wouldn't make it easy on these people to look down on him. Muggle or not, he was going to make himself a force to be reckoned with, starting with informing himself on everything pertinent on their world.

He found a worker for himself, and inquired into the subjects he knew he needed to learn about first. Lucky for him, he didn't just find anyone –he found the owner of the place.

"How can I help?" Mr. Dwight asked.

"I'd like whatever books you recommend on Wizarding culture and customs, history, politics and laws. Probably books with a general overview of those, and I can get supplement books on them later," Wesley said succinctly, making sure he looked completely confident and assured of his place there and with everyone.

Yes, he was a Muggle, but he knew no one needed to (couldn't) know that.

"Ah, looking into educating a Nomaj-born?" the man said knowingly, writing down on a notebook with a pen. Which was good, because Wesley kind of thought parchment and quills were old-fashioned and not really efficient tools to write with anymore (not that he'd say a thing about it to Harry about it, not unless she made a mention of it herself). "You a tutor or introducing them to our world in order for them to be ready to attend school this year?"

Ah, tricky question. Well, technically he was still Harry's tutor…

"Tutor," Wesley nodded. "Though they are about to enter their school year soon," he fibbed slightly, given Harry was entering her newest school year, although not really attending and also it not being her first year.

"Gotcha. Personally, I'd recommend _The Idiot's Guide to the Wizarding World_ , because despite its name, it's pretty handy in getting down the basic stuff of our world to simple explanations. And I'll include a single supplement book for each subject you need, and then when you're done I can have more ready for you, if you need."

"That's perfect," Wesley gave his professional smile. "If you can have it ready, I can take them and then perhaps browse around some more."

"No problem. Actually, I've written them down here and one of my helpers should be bringing them over…now," Mr. Dwight tapped his notebook and then looked up, and sure enough a worker came over with a small stack of books. "This should tide you over for now."

"Thank you. I'll just take these and then hopefully find something else that I might like to read," Wesley thanked them then, and then went to go find Harry.

He managed to find her just as she exited an aisle with a much larger stack of books than his. He blinked and stared.

"Busy workload," she said sheepishly. "Oh well. At least I don't have to do essays and assignments."

"Good for you. No homework," he teased, smiling genuinely this time.

She sniffed at him and narrowed her eyes, before she gave up and laughed. "Alright, alright. Let's just get these paid for and get out of here!"

They were quick to get their books purchased, before leaving the store together. They'd spent a lot of time there already, having spent an hour at the bookstore, an hour at the restaurant, and around half an hour at the phone place. They were in the middle of debating looking around some more or heading back home, when Harry's phone sounded to a generic jingle.

She hurried to grab it. "I don't have anyone else's number except for you –Oh! I'd forgotten Wilson has my number now," she said as she realized she'd received a message from him. Opening it up, she stared at the message in surprise.

 _Can't wait. Need to see Miss Marianna tonight. Help?_

Wesley sidled closer to her and peered over her shoulder at it. He flinched.

"I'm still not processing the idea that Wilson is actually infatuated with someone." Never mind how unlike Wilson the message sounded.

Harry absentmindedly swatted her hand at him, while biting her lip. "Well, he is. I suppose we'll head back to your apartment then, and I can help Wilson get ready and go to the art gallery with him. Will you be coming with us this time?"

At her hopeful look, Wesley couldn't say no. "I'm not busy, so I believe I'm all yours."

"You better be all mine, even when you are busy," Harry grumbled as she typed a reply to Wilson. Then she froze and stared up at him like a deer frozen in front of headlights.

"Too right," Wesley just answered. "And the sentiment better be returned on your end."

She went back to her phone, grumbling under her breath, but he was satisfied with the bright red color on her face. He really should start keeping tally. How many times had he succeeded at this that day alone?

"You're incorrigible," she declared as she sent off the reply.

"'Course I am," he said as he transferred their purchases to his other hand and used his right to wound around Harry's arm and tug her closer. "To home then?"

"To the apartment," Harry agreed and Wesley kept his frown to himself.

He knew, from what he overheard, that she needed to keep calling that house with the Dursleys home. Just until they found a home and that Fidelius Charm was cast over it…

He really needed to jumpstart that search.

* * *

Wesley wasn't sure how to handle seeing Wilson so frazzled. But then again, he'd never seen his boss infatuated with a woman before. Glancing at Harry, perhaps he should stay quiet. It wasn't like he was one to talk.

"Do you need help, Wilson?" Harry asked, tone neutral as they watched Wilson attempt to knot his tie.

On any given day, Wesley (more often than not) had to help Wilson fix his tie. At the moment, Wilson was worse than usual.

He sighed and took over, limber fingers moving to remove the mess left in Wilson's attempt. He looked over at Harry.

"You should go get ready," Wesley told her. "I'm set, I suppose, but you should dress up. Unless you want to go as is, in those clothes," he gave her a look, looking meaningfully at her cousin's clothes.

She waved him off, grinning. "Sure, why not? I'll look artsy. Isn't that what those people love? Tortured, eccentric artists and all?"

Without looking away from Wilson's tie, he grabbed another from the discarded pile and balled it up with one hand, throwing it at her. She laughed and dodged it, leaving them behind. He then put the finishing touches on Wilson's tie, and took a step back to see him looking at him both bemused and fondly.

"Yes, sir?"

"I don't think I can recall ever seeing you this happy –genuinely at least –or having smiled so much," Wilson said. But as Wesley opened his mouth, Wilson held up a hand. "Not your typical 'I'm barely tolerating you' smiles or even your professional smiles. You're smiling more and sincerely because of her."

Wesley kept quiet at that.

"How do you do it?" Wilson asked him, voice sounding wistful. "I'm barely calm, and I've not yet even gone out once with Miss Marianna. But you're around Harry so much, and yet you can still trade barbs and wit like normal. Are you around her so much, you've desensitized yourself?"

Wesley stayed quiet a moment longer before sighing. "I don't think I'll ever be able to desensitize myself. I do know that I enjoy being around her and there are times where I just _need_ to be around her. Whether or not I can be calm, is more a sense of whether I can keep myself in control enough to make _her_ happy, and can hide how not really calm I really am."

Wilson gave him a measured look, nodding in understanding afterwards. "We should go. You shouldn't keep her waiting, and I am most eager to see Miss Marianna again."

Wesley agreed and they walked out to find Harry all dressed and waiting patiently by Wilson's kitchen table. Seeing them, she happily got out of her seat and strode over to them.

"Wilson, mouth open!" she said hurriedly, though cheerfully.

That caught both men so off guard that they could only stare as they stopped short, and Wilson automatically obeying. Harry carefully popped something into Wilson's mouth, who closed it with an audible click.

"Harry, what?" was all that Wesley could get out as he gave a strange look.

"It's a lemon sherbet," Harry shrugged, taking a small pouch she'd been holding and handing them to Wilson. "Trust me, it'll calm your nerves. Anytime you feel upset, angry, or something, just eat one of those. You'll calm down. Feeling calm already, aren't you?"

Wilson paused and realized she was right. "Yes, actually…"

"Great! So promise me you'll eat one every time you start feeling upset, or know you'll go into something that'll probably upset you!"

Wilson hesitantly nodded, still not sure, but also feeling very strangely calm at the moment. "Yes, I promise. I'll…go wait in the car for you two."

When Wilson left, Wesley stared at his exit in shock and then looked at her. She shrugged.

"It's laced with a Calming Draught."

His eyes widened and he wasn't afraid to admit he was gaping openly at her.

"Well, you told me before how he has a temper, and I kept forgetting to ask you what his favorite sweet was, so I ended up with using lemon sherbets. Dumbledore uses it all the time," Harry answered, rather nonchalant about that.

"You mean Dumbledore laces his candy?" he asked faintly.

"Yeah, but it's just to calm down people. Helps keep them from freaking out or doing something rash, or something like that. I figure, from what you told me about Wilson, that he'd might like something to calm him before he ends up lashing out and doing something he can't take back."

If he was honest, this would've been helpful in the past, when Wilson's temper ended up getting out of hand. Still…

"You are…deceptively dangerous, Harry."

"It's just a Calming Draught!"

Started 12/19/15 – Completed 12/23/15

 **A/n: This became long. Like super long. Why? Because it's the holidays. Happy Christmas!**

* * *

 **Quick Points:**

1\. **No-Maj** : The term is actually going to be introduced from the new "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" movie! I can't wait!

2\. **Pandora Pairings Forum** : Please join if you'd like to see the challenges I put up, or if you'd like to request your own rare pairing for someone to take up! I'm got some challenges up already, and will be adding more soon. Link at the end of my profile.

3\. **Yule Ball Interference** : A Wesley/Fem!Harry one-shot I'd appreciate if you guys checked out and hope you guys like!

* * *

 **Anon reviews:**

1\. Guest 1: I've been updating! Not as fast as I had that one week (or was it two), but I haven't yet skipped a week since turning this into a full story :)

2\. Guest 2: Please stop asking me to update another story on this story. It's rude. Either say it on that particular story, or get an account and PM me. Don't spam my other stories.

3\. Guest 3 aka Friend ff Lurker: I'm glad you were rather eager to read this and ended up bingeing on it! Thank you for enjoying and I hope you stick around! And rest easy!


	24. Bad Guys Can Be Good Guys on Weekdays

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Twenty-Four: Bad Guys Can Be Good Guys on Weekdays_

"Don't be awkward," Harry gave Wilson a bland look.

Wesley almost tossed her a scandalous look, but kept himself schooled.

Wilson twitched, wringing his hands. "How do I _not_ be awkward? I don't know what to say or do! This is not something I usually do."

"Eat another lemon sherbet," Harry insisted. "They last for at least half an hour, and it's been a little more than that since you ate the other one."

Wilson blinked and took out the pouch, looking at it and then her suspiciously.

"Are they –"

"Sort of," Harry waved him off. "But do they make you feel better?"

"…Yes."

"Good! The only effect they should have is to make you calm, so take one and then take a deep breath."

Wilson grudgingly put one in his mouth and after a moment or two felt his anxiety lessen until he started to feel calmer. He then took a deep breath and then looked at Harry expectantly.

"Alright. Now, Wilson, just be happy knowing Vanessa's interested in you and does like you. You don't have to do much other than _be yourself_ ," Harry emphasized. "Say what's on your mind, answer her honestly, and treat her like a lady and respectfully. There's nothing special you have to do. A girl's going to appreciate honesty and being real with yourself and her. Trying to play up something or lie is just going to backfire on you."

Wesley watched his boss listen to Harry intently, trying to keep how awkward this was making him. Besides, if someone were to describe all this happening right now, it would be to the effect of how his _girlfriend_ was offering _relationship_ and _dating_ advice to his _boss_. That sounded strange, hadn't it?

"And what of what I do?" Wilson asked with a frown, and Wesley looked at him in alarm and glanced at Harry.

Harry huffed. "Well, what do you expect? You two are hardly innocent and as much you've kept me out of it and I'm not to know too much, I know you two are basically criminals. So that basically said, if she's not going to handle it, then she's obviously not going to be the one for you –you're hardly going to stop what you do, are you? Hence, it's best if you're upfront with Vanessa, or risk a heartbroken or maybe even vindictive lover coming back to –I don't know –blackmail you or something. Whatever. Just find someone who's going to accept you, flaws and all."

The two men stared at her, before Wilson turned to Wesley. "I envy you," he declared solemnly.

Wesley kept quiet, but felt quite pleased. After all, Harry had basically described herself and her situation, and to know she accepted him as is was wonderful. It made him want to better himself, at least for her. She deserved a better man after all. If only Wilson and he could go about saving New York some other way…

"Feeling better?" Harry asked Wilson, who nodded hesitantly. "If you feel like panicking again, just take another lemon sherbet. At least they taste good."

"What is in it?" Wilson probably should sound suspicious, but the…candy was still in effect. "Marijuana?"

Wesley almost snorted at the thought of his boss being high and high off of marijuana at that.

"No, a Calming Draught," Harry answered honestly, and Wesley looked at her in shock.

"Harry –" but Wesley stopped when Harry gave him a small smile.

"He's important to you, right?" she asked him, and when Wesley nodded slowly, she continued. "Then it's fine. You trust him and I don't think he's the type to spill secrets."

"I believe I'm lost in this conversation," Wilson cut in.

Harry turned to Wilson. "I'm a witch," she said seriously.

Wilson started chuckling, but the dead quiet in the car made him stop and look between the two. And then Harry flicked her wrist and her wand appeared in her hand. She went a step further and conjured some flowers and handed them to Wilson.

"You can hand those to Vanessa," Harry told a rather surprised Wilson. And he was sure he would have been flabbergasted, if he hadn't been made calm by that lemon drop concoction.

"You're a witch," he looked at Harry, who nodded. He turned to Wesley. "And you know."

"I found out yesterday," Wesley admitted to him. "When I decided to tag along to her godfather's Will Reading, and found myself leaving with them and going to England instantaneously somehow. The trip was…enlightening."

"I'm…going to have to revisit this entire conversation when I am not being forcibly calm," Wilson frowned, looking between the two. "Despite the demonstration, I'm still having trouble believing all this as well."

"Mmhm, totally understandable," Harry flicked her wrist and retracted her wand. "I'm also, hesitantly mind you, offering to erase Vanessa's mind on the off chance she finds out that –you know –you're a criminal and do criminal things. And she freaks out and all. That sort of thing happening."

While Wilson stared at her, Wesley gently jabbed his elbow into her side. "You could have phrased that much more eloquently."

She glared lightly at him. "I was being straight with him. That's fine, isn't it? I hate roundabout talk, hence just being direct."

"Still," he gave her a look.

"I'm just saying," Harry stayed stubborn. "If, you know, things went south…I'm the one pushing him to do this and be honest…I'm just making sure to cover our options and be able to fix things. You know…without resorting to criminal and/or violent methods. And avoid the whole payback, vengeful mistress thing."

Wilson grabbed at the pouch full of lemon sherbets and hastily grabbed one.

"I think I need another one of these," he muttered.

Wesley and Harry traded looks before giving him guilty and apologetic glances.

"Ah, we're here," Harry noted, seeing them parking in front of the art gallery. "Ready, Wilson?"

"Yes, but I believe only because of the lemon sherbets."

"Huh…at least they're handy."

After exiting and entering the art gallery, Harry looked around for Vanessa. Finding her walking around, she grabbed both Wilson and Wesley's hands and determinedly walked forward. Nearer to Vanessa, Harry stopped and then let go of Wilson, pushing him forward and towards her. With a quick look of askance at her, Wilson straightened up and then walked towards Vanessa confidently.

"What if he doesn't know what to say?" Wesley asked her worriedly. "And ends up saying something offensive?"

Harry rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about that. He talked to her fine last time. Despite his and your worries, he was quite capable of communicating with her."

Wesley glanced at the two and relaxed as he saw his boss easily talking to Vanessa and looking calm. The lemon sherbets were probably helping a lot in that regard though.

"I should check my messages," Wesley commented blithely. "I've been remised in looking through my new phone to see if I've missed anything."

"Well, you did just get it today and then we got busy helping out Wilson," Harry pointed out. "That couldn't be helped. Check it now."

Wesley took out his phone, though the first thing he did was add Harry's number in, having memorized it when he'd looked into her phone to input his. Then he looked to see he had at least 23 missed calls by a Franklin Nelson and three from Matt Murdock. However, he had texts from Nelson too, which surprised and amused him a bit. He was more amused when he actually saw the texts.

"What? What's making you smile?" Harry asked him curiously. She peeked around his arm and glanced at his messages. She giggled. "Oh."

 _Mr. Wesley, I have great news!_

 _Mr. Wesley?_

… _I hope you're not too busy?_

 _Maaatttt! Shark Suit's not answering!_

 _Wait, I sent that to the wrong person. Er, Mr. Wesley you are totally not Shark Suit. Maybe._

 _Well, I broke professionalism already._

 _How's your pretty girlfriend? Are you two on a daaate~?_

… _Is that why you're not answering? 'Cause I know you don't like your time with her interrupted._

 _Heeelllooo?_

 _K. Enjoy your date!_

Harry couldn't stop giggling. "I…knew…I liked him!"

"I'm surprised. Despite his look and his usual personality, he does do professional well enough," Wesley said sarcastically.

"Maybe you have a relaxing atmosphere?" Harry teased.

"I'll eat my tie, if that was the case."

Harry's lips twitched and she couldn't help leaning up and kissing him lightly. "I think you're exaggerating. In any case, since they're looking to be doing alright, let's head to the snack area, huh? I'm a little bit hungry and those snacks look delicious."

"If it gets too long, I'll see about informing Wilson that I'll be taking you out to get something to eat," Wesley said worriedly.

"I'll be fine," Harry shrugged it off. "Come on," she grabbed his hand and led him over.

And while they were focusing on that, Wilson and Vanessa had looked over during that exchange.

"Well, I did originally thought she was your date last time," Vanessa said in amusement and part curiosity, though the statement made Wilson twitch. "I'm guessing that's her guy instead?"

Wilson nodded in confirmation. "That's Wesley, my personal assistant. Through him, I was introduced to Harry, who accompanied me last time."

"You're good friends with both of them?" she asked inquisitively.

Wilson hesitated before deciding to answer honestly. "Yes. Wesley has been a good, loyal friend for long time now, and he just met Harry recently and was pretty attached from the beginning, and having met her soon after, I understood. She's quite kind and to be honest, without her help, I might not have been able to come here to talk to you."

"I suppose I owe her twice now," Vanessa smiled. "For getting you to come here and to ask me out, and for the first time where she encouraged me to talk to you."

Wilson's face flushed slightly. "I must owe her for that then, as well. Would you…would you like to accompany me to dinner tomorrow night?"

"That would be lovely. I would love to."

Wilson glanced over at his assistant and his girlfriend and smiled slightly. Things were going rather well for all of them. It wouldn't be long until New York City fell into order as well, starting with Hell's Kitchen.

* * *

A particular set of knocks alerted them to a certain presence.

"About time!" Foggy threw his hands up. "I mean yeah…it was just a day or two, but he could've called back."

"You sound like a jilted lover, Foggy," Matt smiled to himself, Foggy's disgusted snort forcing him to hide his laugh.

Foggy went to open the door and as expected from the knocks, Wesley stood on the other side.

"Morning, gentlemen," he smiled politely, glasses flashing slightly. "I heard you have news for me?"

"Fantastic, lovely news, Mr. Wesley," Foggy couldn't help grinning widely. "You won't be just pleased –you'll be entertained!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Sounds interesting. May I hear it then?"

Matt gestured to a chair. "You might want to sit down. Some of the things we found out weren't exactly pretty."

Wesley sighed, looking rather tired suddenly. "If you bring up that bloody cupboard…" They looked at him in surprise and question, so he answered reluctantly. "The day before yesterday, we were off to England for her godfather's Will Reading and she told me even more about herself, especially when I prodded about her life with the Dursleys. She downplayed her childhood as much as possible, I'm sure, but she did bring up and let me know about the cupboard. Needless to say, I have heard as much as I can stand about it. I'm sure you've got the exact details about it, enough to make sure her…family is seen as responsible for the act?"

"Oh, you bet," Foggy scowled. "Matt even got it from them straight. On camera and everything. You won't believe what they did and said!"

Foggy narrated what had happened and exactly how Matt had managed to finagle the truth out of the Dursleys, all legally and without doing much to twist any arms. They gave their permissions for everything and willfully said what they said without any prompting. It made Wesley smugly smirk, trying to hide his vindictive glee but not succeeding. Not that he cared about that too much; he just wanted to make sure those people were put away.

Locked up like they used to lock up Harry.

"Sounds solid. When do you think you can move to bring up charges against them?" which meant he'd have to hurry and find a house, while he was at it.

"Should be smooth sailing, but there's always going to be snags we'll have to account for," Matt spoke carefully. "They'll fight it too. Knowing them and just from the brief glimpse into their lives and their personalities. They won't just sit there and take it –they're going to fight everything tooth and nail."

"Of course they will. Doesn't look like they'll be able to do much though," Wesley was certain of that, especially knowing of their propensity to spew things from their horrid mouths that will just incriminate them.

"Speaking of Harry, where is she?" Foggy asked curiously.

Wesley cleared his throat, an unusual sign of discomfort Matt caught. "She's in school at the moment."

Foggy blinked. "Ah. Still getting, uh, used to the fact your girlfriend's a high schooler."

While Wesley sent him a sharp look, Matt kept his amusement to himself, though he himself was still trying to process that fact. There was also that, even with his enhanced senses, somehow he'd managed to be off on her as well. He hadn't been able to pinpoint much about her, and he was also currently debating on approaching her about his whole identity pre-trial or after. Still, something their client had said earlier had peaked his interest.

"Mr. Wesley, did you say you were with her in England?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral and unrevealing.

"Yes, why?" On the other hand, Wesley sounded suspicious.

"…I believe the laws regarding consent are different there than here," Matt said loftily, hintingly.

There was a very strangled silence in the room right then, as both lawyers looked at Wesley, who looked stony while Foggy periodically glanced uncertainly at Matt and then thoughtfully at Wesley.

"If you are insinuating something," Wesley spoke coldly, "I assure you that nothing happened, especially since –as I will remind you –we were there for her _godfather's Will Reading_ and of course I wouldn't take advantage, most importantly when she's _grieving_. It would have, nonetheless, been too big a leap in our relationship, given how prior to that, we hadn't even kissed properly."

"Wait, what?" Foggy interrupted comically. "Man, that is just…I totally admire your restraint. You really only had your first kiss then? I mean, I guess with the situation and all, was it all hurt/comfort, sweet, all 'I need you so much to get rid of this pain!' or –"

"Foggy," Matt cut in.

"What?" And then Foggy realized that both Wesley and Matt were giving him incredulous looks. He coughed. "I was just…curious…"

Wesley twitched. "In any case, I reiterate nothing had happened. I had just accompanied her to there, and supported her when she needed me."

"Oh, I wouldn't say nothing happened. A first kiss is a big deal after all," Matt said completely serious, though his lips twitched up and he gave a slightly teasing look in Wesley's direction. It was also a rather quiet apology for the accusation, and a tentative olive branch.

Wesley gave a rather embarrassed cough. "Y-yes, it was."

Matt noted that, when it came to Harry, James Wesley was much more open and less controlled of himself. What it came to was if it was the man's conscious decision to do so or not was up for debate however.

"Does she know about all this?" he suddenly thought of. At the awkward pause that developed after, he realized in worry that she did not. "That might complicate things…"

"I haven't," Wesley admitted, confirming it for them. "I wanted to get this started and even hopefully done without her knowing, to make sure she didn't have to worry about any of it."

"I think it's best if you told her, Mr. Wesley," Foggy cut in seriously. "Aside from the fact she has the right to know, she might not take any of this well, and probably that you hadn't told her or went behind her back to do this."

Wesley grimaced, but nodded. "Very well. You're right. I'll tell her about it as soon as I can. If that's all, I have some business I need to conduct."

Matt kept his frown to himself. While he was sure that Wesley's "business" was something he needed to look into and not something completely legal (if not at all), he needed to tread carefully. Harry seemed already caught up in all this and he didn't know all the facts. He also got too many mixed signals from Wesley, who (despite the man's initial arrogant and smug demeanor) was strangely likable the more he was talked to. His genuine affection and worry for Harry was (like it or not) sweet and even heartwarming, and Matt (despite Foggy's strange claims that he had some kind of crush on Harry) could find no fault with the relationship and even found himself supporting it.

Still, with what he had gathered about Harry's life prior to them and what he'd concluded about her…

"Mr. Wesley, a word of advice though," he called out, stopping him from leaving. "Given Harry's prior home life –and I suspect you know this or at least understand now that I bring it up –Harry is probably very affection-starved."

He didn't hear an answer, but he didn't need to. Regardless, Matt continued. "I think she'd easily give you what you want, or jump those 'leaps' in any effort to please you, because you seem one of the few that have gained her loyalty and affection. You might not even need to say or do anything, but if she thinks it or suspects –even if false –your own wants, she'll go to any lengths for you. I believe you'll have to be the one to make most of the decisions regarding your relationship."

Wesley took a deep breath before pausing a moment. Then he spoke very carefully.

"I see and somewhat agree, Mr. Murdock. The trouble with that is that I _am_ in a _relationship_ , and it would do no good to treat her as a child. She's already the younger one in the relationship, there's no need to compound on that by me taking away her equal part in the relationship and demoting her to a juvenile role that would make me look patronizing and act like a father, of which I'm definitely not. It would be a disservice to her, if I were to suddenly decide I would make all the decisions. Yes, I know and acknowledge she is most definitely affection-starved and how easy and fast that could make things between us, but I also know her enough to know her life so far has matured her far more than she should be at her age, and that I should rightfully and respectfully be discussing things like an equal with her. I only know enough that I wouldn't take advantage of her, and she trusts me enough not to. Now good day, gentlemen."

He left then, but Matt was frowning thoughtfully at his exit. Foggy whistled from his right.

"Man, a relationship like that sounds like a lot of work. Not that Harry sounds like a lot of work. But there's just way too much to take into account going into a relationship like that. I mean, he's right though too. They've already got age against them –he starts taking over and being the big decider, then that ironically proves that a gapped relationship like that has the younger one in a disadvantage and being the unequal partner in the relationship. I know you meant well, Matt, but that _is_ the problem –one of at least –of an age gap relationship. The younger one is always going to be seen as unequal in the relationship, so the less factors proving that, the better it would be for them."

"You're right," Matt muttered, still thinking over the entire meeting, especially at the end. "Yes, she's starved for affection, but he's level-headed enough to recognize that and when it comes into effect with any of the interactions and decisions. He would be able to think better about it then and calmly talk to her also."

There was at least one thing they could agree about James Wesley and know for absolute certain about him, even if they were surprised to say they did and the fact they knew they hadn't known him for too long or too closely.

He would always have Harry's best interest at heart, and put her above his own wants and needs.

* * *

Wesley hummed quietly, observing the new suit on him. Sleek and fitted, just as he preferred. Made of expensive material, coordinated with good style, and smoothly worn.

He would have to be able to match this when he went shopping for wizarding robes. An impression was always important, and if he didn't command attention and make them look at him and acknowledge him, he would never make it as Harry's partner in her world. He was damn well going to outclass every single one of them.

Wesley was going to have to make sure he looked as he did now, like new money –complete with the "suit and tie." Taking his phone out while still looking at himself, he found the "handheld" icon that made the phone levitate in the air next to him (having found this feature on the magical mode, he'd been ecstatic at the discovery), so he could focus on putting on his tie while he called Harry. He was getting ready for the night, though he had to pick up Harry from school and get her ready as well. Considering Wilson had insisted Harry and he come along on his date, Wesley was expecting to be tense all night, so he was glad that he'd have Harry come along and be with him.

It could also, strangely, be considered a double date.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Harry," Wesley spoke as he adjusted his tie. "Are you ready to be picked up?"

"School's over and I finished up swimming practice and just cleaning up. I think I'll be done by the time you get here."

"Great. I'll pick you up and we'll come back here, so you can get ready for tonight. Then we'll see to Wilson and hope he's handling himself fine. Hopefully he's not anxiously eating those lemon sherbets you've given him."

"He'll be fine," Harry answered him in amusement. "Trust me. Everything will go okay tonight. Fantastic even. So see you in a bit."

"Bye," he murmured.

He observed himself one last time.

If he was going to end up as Consort Potter-Black, he had to look and act immaculate. Despite what she said and how she didn't care, he would be representing her in all the ways that mattered to her society. He wasn't about to step another foot out of line, especially when he had the 'no magic' part against him already.

Good thing he'd worked for Wilson for so long, and had been brought up the way he was. He could handle all this just fine.

* * *

Harry finished off with putting on the pearl earrings. Then there was a knock on the door and Harry bid Wesley to enter.

"You look wonderful," he smiled slightly. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah…" Harry said thoughtfully, watching her reflection. "You know…you never really go flashy on me. I don't know why I just realized that."

"You're not the type, and it's not your preference anyway," Wesley said simply, coming closer and taking the simple but beautiful jade hair piece in his hand and placing it in her messy updo.

"How could you tell? I never said anything," Harry laughed quietly at him.

"I can read you easily," he shrugged. "Always have."

Harry looked bemusedly at him, but if she thought about it, he was right.

"Then again, so have you," Wesley added. "I don't think anyone else knows me as well as you do, not even Wilson."

Harry was once again caught off guard, but she felt herself grow happy at that thought. She realized she had come to really like Wesley, who had become somehow some sort of pillar for her to lean or cling to. She knew she was struggling to handle the relationship, given how she'd never had one before and she had no idea what to say or do in one. She tried taking her cues from Wesley, but he was more experienced and knowledgeable about these things, which put her at a disadvantage. She wished she had listened to Parvati and Lavender more in school, and even decide to ask questions.

"You look extremely thoughtful. Pearls for your thoughts?" he fingered one of the pearls on her ears.

"I thought the expression was 'penny for your thoughts?'" she asked, her eyes looking amused.

"Ah, but your thoughts are worth more than a measly penny. Now…do I get to know what you were thinking of?" When he pulled her closer, holding her in his arms, she felt her heart skip a beat and her breath hitch.

"You. And this," she blurted out honestly. "I don't know what to do and I'm worried about messing up or making you unhappy."

Murdock's words from earlier echoed in Wesley's mind then.

"It's alright if you don't know what to do," Wesley said finally, trying to articulate what needed to be said to her. "We're not in a rush for anything and you know I would never rush _you_. You can take your time with anything you need. Take your time to figure things out. Ask me about things. I can be patient and I'll always be there for you. You don't need to worry about making me unhappy, because my goal is to make you happy –and when you are, then you know I'll be happy too."

When he leaned down, she was already getting used to realizing what that meant, and happily reciprocated. Even if it was a quick, soft caress of lips, it still easily made her feel special and…loved.

"I could show you incredible things. And I will, just as you've shown me incredible things," he whispered against her lips.

"…Have you been listening to Taylor Swift?" she ruined the mood, pulling back and giving the widest grin ever.

"A song or two might have popped up on the radio as I went to pick you up," he confirmed dryly. "And I was being serious."

She tried her best to stifle her giggles, hugging him again and burrowing herself into his embrace. They never did things by halves, did they? Or normal.

Normal was overrated anyway.

"So long as I don't look like your next mistake, as you definitely bloody hell don't look like mine," she rolled her eyes and pulled him towards the door. "Let's go get Wilson and head out of here."

He chortled quietly, letting her lead the way. After a quick stop at Wilson's penthouse to pick him up, they were soon in the car and heading to pick up Vanessa. Thankfully, that was quick as well and they were sort of comfortably and yet also awkwardly sitting in the car.

"How long have you two known each other?" Vanessa asked, rather curious of the two in front of her.

Harry blinked. "Um, a little over a month, I think?"

"A month and close to two weeks," Wesley answered succinctly without blinking. He was stared at, but it was okay and he admitted that he kept count. But Harry quickly looked pleased (if embarrassed), so his neurosis about her and them together could be forgiven.

"That's…"

"Specific," Wilson cut in quietly.

"Wonderful," Vanessa ended, with an amused smile. "And Mr. Wesley, have you and Wilson known each other long as well?"

"Just Wesley, Miss Marianna," Wesley smiled politely. "And yes, you can say that."

"Oh, I think we're here already," Harry noted as she looked outside, window open.

"Harry, why'd you open the window?" Wesley panicked a little.

"Why? Is something the matter?" Vanessa asked, and then they had two females looking at them curiously.

Wesley and Wilson gave each other looks. Well, Harry would understand since she knew about everything, but in front of Vanessa…

"I…have a delicate condition," Wilson said hesitantly, at the same time as Wesley said "He gets carsick."

The women looked surprised before Harry looked dismayed.

"I'm sorry, Wilson! I didn't know. I'll just close it now," Harry hurried to do so.

Wesley flinched, while Wilson felt bad. They hadn't wanted to upset Harry or to worry her, but Wilson wasn't yet ready to reveal things to Vanessa. He hoped Wesley would clear things away and explain it to Harry as quick as possible, so she wouldn't misunderstand.

"At least we are actually here," Vanessa said, noticing the car slowing.

Thankfully, they kept quiet and waited for the car to park. Afterwards, the men helped the ladies out and into the restaurant, where Harry and Vanessa were astonished to find the place empty.

"Right this way," Wesley smiled and gestured to a table next to a large window.

Wilson and Vanessa sat down first, and Harry was going to also when Wesley grabbed her arm gently.

"You're not going to sit with us?" Wilson asked, only a tinge of panic audible in his voice.

"Ah, I think it's best to give you two privacy and allow you two to get to know each other more," Wesley told him. "Have a good evening, Miss Marianna, Wilson. We'll just be over there."

Wesley then led Harry to another table, a little closer to the middle of the restaurant.

"We'll be accessible to Wilson from here but also the exit if my presence is needed by the men," Wesley told her.

"I don't know if that was cruel, leaving Wilson on his own, or nice of you to let them be on their own and explore things," Harry gave him a small smile.

"He'll be fine. You've said that," Wesley shrugged slightly. "I did manage to recommend the wine to him first, before leaving him to his own devices. Which is actually quite a good wine. I think I'll order it for ourselves too."

"Can I actually have wine?" Harry tilted her head slightly.

Wesley thought about it, seeing as how he hadn't really thought she wouldn't.

"Well, in England you could, so I don't see why not," Wesley answered nonchalantly.

Their wine came then and they had a glass poured for each of them.

"If that was the case, you would have slept with me in England…or just here."

At that point, Wesley had been taking a sip of the wine he'd ordered and had nearly spit it out.

"Er, yes. You could…say that." She was right though. If, given his answer with the wine, his mindset was like that, he should have no problems sleeping with her anywhere. But…

"It's not the same," he told her, looking her firmly in the face. "Because drinking alcohol, wine especially, is not as big a deal as…that."

"Okay," Harry said simply. "But I'm not going to get weird on you or something, if you start getting all decidedly sexual somehow on me. Of if you want to wank off or something. Yeah. Okay."

Wesley gave her an odd look, though his cheeks probably had tinged red at some point. Probably even darker as she mentioned wanking off. Just because he wasn't British, didn't mean he didn't understand that. But…

"You mean that?" he gave a horrible smirk at her, lifting his foot up and trailing it slowly up her leg.

Her face flushed red, but she didn't say anything, glancing in paranoia at Vanessa and Wilson, who looked thankfully lost in each other.

"They look like they're getting along," Harry's voice was only slightly getting high.

His foot reached the hem of her dress and began to teasingly push it back.

"They are, aren't they?" Wesley noted, looking over as well, even if he wasn't stopping. "Good thing we aren't there. They would have used us as a crutch and tried to deflect all the talk and everything else to us."

By then, he had used his long legs as an advantage and managed to lift her dress as far back as mid-thigh. But then there was a commotion up front and Wesley dropped his foot down in disappointment. If Harry gave him a smug look then, well he wouldn't say he didn't deserve it.

To Wesley's annoyance (and then horror, when he realized where and who he was with), Anatoly came bumbling through the front, trying to get in and talk to Fisk. He glanced over at his boss, who looked like he was steadily getting furious, and then back at Anatoly.

A hand on his arm distracted him from his panic and he saw Harry smiling at him.

"Get to Wilson and get him to eat a lemon sherbet. Join me in a sec, ok?" Wait, she shouldn't be dealing with Anatoly! "You jerk!" she surprisingly yelled as she got up and stormed towards a now confused Anatoly, who had been held back by a couple of Wesley's men. "I can't believe my cousin just won't believe I'm fine when I say I'm fine!"

Oh. She's…going to pretend Anatoly's her cousin?

By the time she'd reached Anatoly's side and had looped an arm around one of the Russian's, she'd begun towing him away at the same time as Wesley finally got up and headed over to Wilson, who looked decidedly unsure.

"Wesley, will Harry be alright?" Vanessa asked in worry.

"She'll be fine," he reassured her. "That was her cousin. He doesn't like me and worries too much about her with me. We'll probably leave now and maybe drag him off somewhere to hang around."

Wilson hid his bemusement, trying to look like this was nothing new to him, but slipped a lemon sherbet in his mouth at Wesley's quick hinted gesture.

"Oh! That's too bad. I was hoping you two would be around and we can talk around some more, but maybe next time then. Have a good evening, you two," she smiled easily at him.

"You as well, Miss Marianna."

"Just Vanessa for me, and at least now we'll all be on first name basis, yes?" her smile widened slightly.

He nodded to her and then left to find Harry.

* * *

Anatoly was confused. He didn't know this strange (but _very_ pretty) girl that had stormed up to him and called him cousin.

But she was very pretty indeed.

Pale milky skin, emerald eyes like his Mamulya used to tell him were her favorite jewels, and dark hair as dark as the winter nights in Russia.

"Who are you?" he asked as she grabbed his arm and led him away.

"Someone who thinks you're an idiot for interrupting," her tone was as dry as the deserts, and had an English accent.

He frowned. "What are you talking about? I haff to talk to Fisk –"

"Who is busy," she insisted, looking back quickly. He looked back as well and saw Fisk's lapdog talking to Fisk and…a woman that was seated opposite Fisk.

"Oh."

"Yes, 'oh.'" She rolled her eyes. "Common sense, mister. Even business doesn't interrupt a date. Talk to him after, if you need to, but don't interrupt him _now_."

"Who are you?" he asked again.

She blinked. "Ah, well, I'm Harry. I'm a…friend of Wilson's. And Wesley's –"

"Girlfriend," Wesley said smartly, striding forward and gently (but firmly) extricating Harry's arm from Anatoly's, and slipping hers onto his own. "Was there something you needed, Anatoly?"

"I wanted to talk to…" at Wesley's sharp look, he was reminded he wasn't supposed to say Fisk's name aloud. Especially in front of this girl, who he wasn't sure knew anything. But then again, he'd been too late about that…"Him. I wished to talk to him about…"

At that, he glanced at her and then looked to Wesley. He didn't know what to say.

"If it's business, it can wait to later," Wesley said sharply. "In the meantime, I guess we can…"

"Let's go for some ice cream," Harry said suddenly. "We didn't really get to eat, but I'm only slightly hungry anyway. I'm craving it too. Wesley?"

Anatoly looked at Fisk's assistant, who looked reticent. He kind of didn't mind, but Wesley looked like he was contemplating suicide. Then the man's usual professional mask was on and he nodded.

"I'm assuming you're inviting him along?" Wesley asked, glancing at him.

"Of course," the girl beamed brightly at them. "I would like to get to know your associates, Wesley."

Anatoly and he exchanged unsure and slightly panicked looks, but an image of Harry meeting the others popped into mind and all sorts of horrible scenarios ran through their heads.

"Yeah. Sure," Wesley said weakly. "Let's just get that ice cream, alright?"

A half hour later and they had been in an ice cream parlor and were now sitting at a table outside it, eating their respective scoops of ice cream.

This was strange, but not bad. Anatoly thought so at least. And Fisk's lapdog was not as bad as he and his brother believed to be –in fact, the man had one of the most interesting senses of humor he'd heard of. Mostly, it was very dry and sometimes scalding.

"May I try some?" Harry asked Wesley, taking a bite of his French vanilla. She then turned to Anatoly, jewel eyes wide and bright. "I've never had chocolate fudge. Is it different than regular chocolate?"

Anatoly blinked and held out his cone, and she delightedly tasted it.

"Oh! I like this much better than regular chocolate ice cream."

He looked to Wesley, who looked amused and exasperated, but was smiling very fondly at the girl.

Anatoly shrugged slightly to himself. He would just enjoy his ice cream and his time there for now.

Even if he was feeling very strange about all this and the situation itself was strange.

Started 12/26/15 – Completed 12/31/15

 **A/n: Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year! I won't be able to reply to reviews since I'm going to a party, but I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and please remember to review!**

* * *

 **Quick Points:**

1\. **Pandora Box Forum** : Sign up! I post up challenges here, so if you're interested in answering one or seeing them, just subscribe! The link to it is at the end of my profile.

2\. **Yule Ball Interference** : A Christmas/Yule one-shot for Wesley/Harry :D Please check it out and review!


	25. Magic, Madness, Heaven, Sin

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **Warning: Mature, sexual themes coming up –but full uncensored edit should be on my Ao3 account later.**

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Twenty-Five: Magic, Madness, Heaven, Sin_

After ice cream, Wesley dropped Harry off at his apartment, while he took Anatoly to meet with Fisk. She hoped nothing was going to go wrong, and when she looked at Wesley as he came through his door only an hour later, she felt relieved at seeing his lips quirk up a little at the sight of her.

"How're things?" she asked hesitantly.

"Not bad, considering," Wesley shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it onto the top of the couch. "Though I did make sure Wilson had another of those handy lemon sherbets before talking with Anatoly. Thankfully, I think that helped in him not going berserk on Anatoly, though your earlier interference probably helped as well."

"That's good," Harry commented, while patting the spot next to her. Amused, Wesley sat next to her. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Uneasy now, Wesley nodded and waited for her to talk about whatever it was on her mind.

"I appreciate you wanting to wait until I'm legal, but I wanted to reiterate what I said earlier in the restaurant," she started off quietly and Wesley hid his wince. Ah, they were going to talk about that again. "The thing is, Wesley…You really don't need to coddle me about it either, and if you're going to tease, then you can tease even more seriously if you wanted," she specifically gave him her permission.

He swallowed heavily, watching her intently by then.

"I've nearly died several times," she gave him a half-smile. "I was _11_ and nearly died. Someone wanted to murder me when I was just a year old. I've almost had my soul sucked out. I've nearly been prosecuted, unfairly at that. I've been tortured several times, the first time when I was 14 in a graveyard in front of a whole bunch of men that laughed while it happened. And one of my teachers the past school year felt justified in tormenting me," she held up her left hand hesitantly, and Wesley stared at the words that were scarred there and couldn't believe he'd missed that before.

"The point I'm trying to make," she said softly, shifting closer to him. He inhaled sharply and couldn't help leaning into her. "I don't care about the law. If I want to do it, if I want to have sex with you, then it's by my decision. I'm going to make that choice. And if you're going to wait, that's fine by me. Just do that because you're waiting for when I'm ready for it and when I want to do it, not because of some law."

He blinked at her, holding his breath. There was a huge conflict in his head about this, but she was looking at him seriously and God knows she looked like such an old soul right then, more so as he gazed into her soulful emerald eyes.

"Okay," he said slowly, and she gave him a warm smile.

"I'm not ready for it yet," she declared, finally giving him an answer. "But there are things I don't mind. My godfather once, before his death, taught me an old Pureblood trick that was passed down for younger ones to use with their partners. Purebloods especially looked down on wedlock children, but just telling your kids to not have sex wasn't a clear solution. As a sort of substitute, they came up with a different method to avoid penetration and the full act. If you're still uncomfortable touching me and doing other stuff without doing it for real, then this should be fine because you wouldn't have to do anything like that."

Confused but unable to not keep from feeling slightly excited, he waited patiently for her to continue explaining. But she leaned in then and kissed him fully, and his mind was on reciprocating. The tip of her tongue traced the line of his lips shyly, and before it could retreat, he let his own tongue move out to tangle with hers.

Without warning, he started to feel unnaturally warm. And it wasn't the normal type that anyone could get when engaging in things like this –there was something off about it. Just as he pulled back to question Harry if she felt like that too, he caught sight of her emerald eyes and became mesmerized as he noted the slight golden sheen they took on. Before he could say a word, her lips crashed back onto his, and he was melding his mouth onto hers, thoroughly ravishing her mouth as the strange warmth seemed to intensify and grow to fully encompass him.

And then, along with the warmth, he felt sparks alighting all over his skin, more so around where Harry's slender hands began to touch. A strange sort of euphoria began to rise up in him, and he couldn't think and he was starting to forget how to breathe. He moved back for breath, especially after all the intense feelings he was currently experiencing, and was further enraptured by the sight of the gold sheen from Harry's eyes seemingly become matching to the gold sheen that surrounded her.

The air around them was stifling and Wesley could briefly see the gold aura around Harry had been sporadically wrapping around him, and everything he was feeling then wasn't letting up. With dim realization that he was being sexed up by Harry's magic, and that it was hopefully sharing and projecting what he was feeling back onto her, he focused on everything he was feeling and let himself immerse in them. The little gasp Harry let out at least confirmed to him that she was feeling the magical overload too, so he made sure to keep focus on every little thing he felt.

He brought her closer and settled her on his lap, squeezing her hips for a moment. He kissed her lips briefly, but this time he went to go nuzzle first her jaw and then her neck, licking it fleetingly. He kept a firm focus on his emotions and the way she was making him feel with her magic, and rubbed his hands up and down the expanse of her back while her own hands came to grasp at his arms. He could feel her legs squeeze around him and she began to squirm a little, her breath coming in quicker.

He wasn't sure if it was him or if there really was now a slight golden haze around them, but he was having trouble thinking still so he couldn't focus on anything much other than what he was feeling and hoping it was still reflecting back onto Harry. It was a sure bet, considering the way she was reacting to him, and he was just continuing to kiss her and rub her back firmly.

They pulled away from each other, only to place their foreheads against each other while holding on tightly. He could feel her magic wrapping around him more and flowing through his body, and the euphoric sensation he was aroused with built up until it was starting to reach its peak and Wesley could only just hold onto Harry tighter and try to scramble to collect his brain but failing at it. When the euphoria reached its crescendo, Wesley's eyes rolled slightly and he could feel Harry gasp and arch against him, and stuck in a pleasured haze, he could only vaguely understand that they'd came together because of Harry's magic. That was…certainly a first for him.

As they held on to each other and tried to catch their breaths, Wesley was slowly trying to catch up as to what had happened and regain his faculties. _Technically_ , he didn't have sex with her. It didn't even constitute as a "lewd act", as one it wasn't lewd (well, in his opinion, it wasn't) and two, there wasn't any precedent for it in _Muggle_ law. So if Harry was going to let him flaunt the law like this, he shouldn't be too worried anyhow. And he'd agreed to wait for her anyway.

Christ, he was trying hard _not_ to be a criminal with her, but she was making it really hard.

Speaking of laws though…

"In the Magical World, is this…" he asked (though he trailed off) once he'd managed to think straight and breathe correctly again.

"I'm not familiar with the laws, but I doubt it," she answered with a slight shrug. "Besides, I think they're more focused on laws on Dark Arts, dark wizards, and dangerous creatures. And Quidditch. Or at least the British are. This is also a method that's not a secret or anything, so it's not like it's banned or whatever."

Far more curious than he should be about it, "Are you considered legal in the magical world then?"

She blinked. "I don't know. To be honest, I don't think there are any consent laws in the Wizarding World, where I'm from at least. Age of majority is considered more important, I think, given all this Heir and Lord stuff they focus on and which plays a huge role in that society."

He remembered that she was a Lady now too and was going to ask her about it, when he noticed her yawning.

"Sleepy?"

"A bit," she admitted sheepishly.

"Not surprising, considering it's rather late and we'd had an eventful night," he kissed her quickly and picked her up, carrying her to bed.

"Can I have one of your shirts to sleep in again?" she asked and he was quick to snag one from his drawers and give it to her. But then she paused and looked at him as he went to go leave the room momentarily and stopped him. "Do you want to watch me change?"

He stopped short of leaving the door, looking back at her in surprise. He stared for a moment, unsure of what he heard while also warring in his head about it, but Harry patiently just sat on the bed and waited.

"Yes, I would like that," he said finally, and went back fully into the room and closed the door behind him.

She smiled and laughed lightly, but she gave him a fond gaze as she stood up and turned her back to him.

"You might get to even participate a little, since I can't unzip this dress myself," she said wryly, and he went over and took the zipper in hand, dragging it down slowly to reveal her skin inch by inch.

She turned then and took the upper halter top of the black dress down and then let it drop to her waist, to which she slipped the rest of it over her hips and then to easily fall to the ground. He greedily drank her in, watching her breasts move as she breathed, the toned limbs and stomach he should've guessed at (despite the Dursleys' treatment) after years of rigorous Quidditch training she'd told him about, and the gentle slopes of her ankles he'd first worshipped her about.

"I adore you," he said quietly.

Though she beamed happily at him as she slipped on the shirt, her face easily flushed red at his statement. As she buttoned it up, she leaned up on her toes and pecked his lips.

" _I_ adore _you_ ," she said back impishly. But then she turned shy. "No one's ever noticed me like you, you know. I just…you're special. Don't forget that, okay?"

"I won't," he promised, feeling inordinately happy as he followed her to bed. He shed most of his own clothing before he slipped into bed behind her and pulled her close. "Goodnight," he murmured and smiled slightly as he noticed she was already fast asleep.

He closed his eyes and didn't have trouble falling asleep himself.

* * *

~Cut Scene~

* * *

She woke up early, like usual. Slipping away from Wesley, she got ready for the day before she'd get started on breakfast. By the time she was out of the shower, Wesley was awake.

"I can get started on breakfast while you take a shower," she told him, and he agreed after giving her an odd glance that she didn't understand.

Shrugging to herself, she went to the kitchen and began making something simple they could eat quickly, before she had to go to school. She was joined by Wesley soon after, who had only taken a quick shower and was now continuing to give her odd glances.

"Okay, what's wrong?" she asked finally, after she finished cooking.

He cleared his throat. "Nothing's wrong." Giving him a look, he relented then. "I had a dream about you this morning."

Confused how that was a problem, she told him that was nice and asked what she was doing. He uncharacteristically blushed and she understood what kind of dream.

"Oh," she shared his blush. "Well, I guess it had better been about me," she decided finally, giving him an awkward grin.

He snorted. "Of course it was. Like I would dream about anyone else."

Unable to stop her curiosity, she blurted out, "Was it good?"

Taken aback a bit, he gave her an amused grin once he'd composed himself. "Good enough I woke up and went to the bathroom to take care of myself."

Blushing but pleased, she decided that she didn't mind embarrassing him a bit more. "Next time you can take care of yourself in bed next to me."

Fully embarrassed alright, but willing to still snark back, Wesley replied, "I'll keep that in mind. In fact I will."

They shared a laugh together and then started in on breakfast before heading out. Soon enough, Wesley had parked in front of her school and dropped her off, and she watched him leave after.

"So…just curious, but wondering like the rest of the school, is that guy like your boyfriend or a relative?"

Surprised, she turned to face the speaker, noting it was a handsome brunet with a playful grin. She hesitantly looked at him and he held up his hands

"Sorry, I'm being rude –name's Peter. Peter Parker," he held out his hand and she shook it tentatively. "I was just asking, but that guy's been dropping you off for a while now and well, I'm just curious. Practically the whole school is though. It's not every day you see a handsome, older man with a nice set of wheels drop off a pretty girl. Er, well, not that you have to tell me. Or anyone. Like I said –just curious!"

"He's my boyfriend," she decided to confirm, curious about this boy who had suddenly approached her. And since he'd introduced himself…"My name's Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you, I guess."

He beamed happily at her. "I've seen you around and I know you get along with everyone, but I don't think I've ever seen you just…hang. Or have any real friends around here. So I'd like to be your friend!"

Bewildered but happy, she smiled back at him. "I'd like that, Peter."

She was glad to have finally made a friend her age there.

* * *

As they walked home, Wesley having called her to tell her he was unfortunately busy with a case he was working with the Murdock and Nelson duo (that he surprisingly wanted to talk to her about later), she listened as Peter enthusiastically told her about his Aunt May, his best friend Harry ("He has your name! Can I call you Henrietta? I'm going to get confused."), and how he really liked photography and hoped to get a job doing something with it. It was Harry who had a hard time trying to talk about herself, but she did her best while omitting magic from her life story.

"We should hang sometime," he cheerfully told her as he neared his street. Funnily enough, he lived a block away from her. "Your boyfriend can hang around too. Maybe he'd let us drive his car, huh?"

Harry's lips twitched. "Maybe. He's a bit protective of it, but he might be persuaded."

"Nice! So, see you tomorrow at school?" Peter asked hopefully.

"Okay," she agreed steadily, wondering what Wesley would make of Peter. Probably call him an eager pup. Sirius definitely would.

She quickly derailed her thoughts from that and waved goodbye to her new friend. Then she turned to the direction of her house and reluctantly walked that way, inwardly wishing she could just walk towards Wesley's. She felt more at home there anyway.

Suddenly, she started getting this wary feeling and like she was being watched. Looking around nervously and seeing nothing abnormal, she started to speed up her steps while slipping her wand into her hand.

A few more steps and she was sidelined, a bag quickly being pulled over her head while her glasses were knocked off. She screamed and struggled, trying to aim her wand in the direction where her captor was, but whoever it was had already locked their arms around her and was too close. Then she took a heavy hit to the head and was knocked out.

She woke up to the bag still over her head, while hearing a man speaking in Russian. At least she assumed so. It sounded like what Viktor used to speak in sometimes, but different. It was much more like what Anatoly had spoken like though, in the brief instances where he'd muttered something in Russian.

The bag was then yanked off her head and she squinted to see a blurry figure. She couldn't see at all, damn it.

"Harry, yes?"

She blinked, afraid and wondering how this man knew her name. She didn't know him and she didn't know how, aside from Wesley and his (whatever it is) business, she could be associated with anything to do with this man.

"Your family said you were pretty. I must say I agree. Maybe instead of giving you over, I shall keep you to myself," the man said in amusement.

She kept silent, pressing her lips together tightly. She needed to find out where her wand and phone was, because neither of them were on her.

"Da. I think I shall keep you around."

Harry refused to speak or cry, though she knew her eyes were teary.

Started 1/6/16 – Completed 1/7/16

 **A/n: (whistles) Should I change this to M now? Haha, I've been listening to "Blank Space" (Taylor Swift) and "Young God" (Halsey; especially this one, hence how the first half of this chapter came out). I've also been listening to "Shout" (Think Up Anger cover) too much too, hence then end. I mean, I've been planning Harry's abduction, but still XD Review and save Harry? (Just JK)**

* * *

 **Quick Points:**

1\. **Magical Overload** : I always have this in mind, and in particular brought into this universe via the Pureblood, pre-marital sex stuff, and since I'd already had the scene with Wesley and Harry in mind like that, I cheat the law XD Although, I'm not sure I described it as well as I'd like to have it mirrored from what I pictured in my head.

2\. **Peter Parker** : I actually came up with bringing him in on the spot as I was writing the chapter yesterday. I thought it would be good to bring in someone Harry's age and give her a friend there. And, looking Peter up, apparently he's going to be in the MCU soon, so yay! Plus, people speculating and hoping he'll get a cameo in Daredevil and all (since he's supposed to get a cameo in Civil War…)

3\. **Pandora Box Forum** : Sign up! I post up challenges here, so if you're interested in answering one or seeing them, just subscribe! The link to it is at the end of my profile.

5\. **Yule Ball Interference** : A Christmas/Yule one-shot for Wesley/Harry :D Please check it out and review!

6\. **:** I'm hopefully going to publish my original book soon, and on the verge of finishing it now. It would be nice, if anyone could be a patron!

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 **Anon reviews:**

1\. Guest: Thank you~ I'm definitely on a roll, continuing this, so don't worry!


	26. Deadly Season

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Twenty-Six: Deadly Season_

During school hours, Wesley had received a text from Harry about her getting a new friend. Some kid named Peter Parker. On one hand, he was pleased she'd finally made a normal friend, but on the other hand –did it really have to be a guy? And, judging by the photo she'd sent too, it was a good-looking kid. Even if he was secure in his relationship with Harry, he knew he had a tendency to get jealous and (when it came to her) rather insecure.

"You seem distracted, Mr. Wesley," Murdock asked, his blind gaze unnaturally directed towards Wesley.

"Am I?" Wesley inwardly winced as he caught his surly tone.

"Oh yeah, someone's unhappy," Foggy (the man insisted to be called so, even by him) said. "What's the problem?"

"It's unprofessional to indulge in personal matters," he said blandly, but both lawyers gave him looks.

"We're knee deep in unprofessionalism with you, Mr. Wesley –can we just call you Wesley? Let's just get all the trivialities and politeness out of the way," Foggy shrugged. "Anyway, you and your situation mixed in with us has thrown everyone into unprofessionalism."

Wesley knew it had, even if he was confused at how it had gotten to be so. Not that he would admit his confusion.

"Harry made a friend," he told them, huffing.

"That's…good, isn't it?" Murdock raised an eyebrow.

"He's some young, good-looking kid her age at her school."

"And yet you're the one she's with, and she chose to tell you about this Peter in the first place," Murdock smoothly countered, gesturing for Karen to come into the small workroom through the glass separating them.

Wesley kept quiet as the secretary came in, grabbed the papers from Murdock and Foggy, and then left again to try to make copies. He really should do something about the equipment here…maybe donate some electronics that actually work.

"I know that," Wesley finally said quietly. "And I trust her and us. It doesn't change the fact there's better men out there for her, and who would be easier to be with."

"Again, though, like Matt pointed out, she chose you," Foggy also claimed.

"I know what Mr. Murdock said –"

"Matt," Murdock – _Matt_ –cut in.

"Matt," Wesley almost rolled his eyes. "I know what _Matt_ said. But tell me it wouldn't be easier if she were to go with this Peter instead."

Foggy took a drink of his water bottle. "Easier doesn't mean better, my man. Anyway, should we break? We're almost done and can go to file this case and either give the Dursleys a summons or outright get them arrested on the spot –we can do the latter easier though, if Harry made the report of abuse to the police."

"Let's break," Matt confirmed. "You can call her," he directed to Wesley. "I bet it'll ease your mind."

Wesley nodded, deciding that would be a good course of action and that it would probably ease his mind like the other said. He took out his new phone and began calling, but received no answer. Furrowing his eyebrows, he tried twice more before sending off a text.

He received no answer either times.

That…wasn't like her. Since getting each other's numbers, they hadn't yet missed a call or text from the other. Of course he understood that she could be delayed or simply, finally, missed his calls or was too busy to answer her phone.

But there was this nagging feeling in his gut that told him something was wrong and that he had to make sure she was alright.

He stood up abruptly, getting the other two men's attention.

"Wes –"

"I have to go," Wesley interrupted Matt, speaking sharply as he continued to watch his phone and attempt to call again. "Harry's not answering. She could be busy, but…I can't shake off this feeling I have."

"We'll go with you," Matt volunteered, voice serious.

"Yeah, we'll come too," Foggy grabbed his jacket, and Wesley was already rushing out of there while they quickly informed their secretary of their quick leave.

Taking his car, he drove to her school, found it empty and her in no sight, and then started to drive in the direction of her house, all the while calling her phone. He drove in that direction, saw nothing, went near her house, saw nothing, and then parked in front of her house in worry and anxiety.

"We could always barge up to the house and ask her family?" Foggy asked hesitantly.

"It'll ruin our surprise arrest, but I don't think we have a choice," Matt frowned. "I just…don't hear a thing."

"Huh?"

Wesley looked at him in surprise and suspicion. Well, he did hear that the blind usually gained higher ability with their other senses to compensate…

"The house is empty. No one's inside," Matt told them.

"We'll check in anyway, see if they left a note that they went out for food or something for Harry, or maybe even –doubtfully –brought Harry along. In any case, if they left, she would probably have avoided the place altogether and maybe have headed to my apartment," Wesley frowned as well, trying to think up best-case scenarios, even as unlikely as they were.

Finding dim amusement that no protest came from either lawyer of his breaking and entering suggestion, he left the car with them and headed to the door. Easily picking it, they entered and nearly gaped. It was empty alright. Completely so.

There was no one and nothing.

They all hurriedly searched the house, but all the rooms were as empty as the last. Wesley cursed himself –he should've thought the Dursleys would be flight risks and stationed someone to keep a watch on them. He had hinged on them being surprised and him keeping everything quiet, that he hadn't thought that maybe they'd catch on somehow.

Finding himself at Harry's room, he opened the door and found it untouched, her stuff at least having been left behind. He stepped into it and looked around dully. It was bare, but that was expected given that Harry didn't own much and she didn't like that place or being in it for so long. And yet, just the bare minimum was enough to show it was Harry's room.

Her closet was thrown wide opened to show her dresses he'd gotten for her, all still hung up nicely. At the foot of her bed was her school trunk, and the covers of her bed was a worn emerald color that was near the shade of her eyes.

"This room must be hers, huh," Foggy's voice sounded from behind him, and Wesley turned to face him and Matt by the door.

"She's not here," Wesley stated the obvious, though he had been hoping that wasn't true.

"They could have taken her with them," Foggy was doubtful of that himself.

Wesley grabbed his phone and looked up someone else, gaining an idea. Finding a certain Peter Parker's address, he strode out of the room and passed the others.

"Uh, where are we going?"

"To visit Peter Parker and hopefully get answers," Wesley growled out.

* * *

Harry hated feeling so helpless. She was stupidly blind and unarmed, and no clue as to what was going on, who she was with, or where she was.

"Why am I here?" she chanced speaking up.

The man, blurry as he was, turned to her. At least she assumed so.

"You are here because your family sold you to us," he told her. "They were in some sort of hurry and wanted to leave the country, but before they did, they sold you to us and told me where I could find you and get you."

Right now, she'd give anything for some accidental magic. Apparently fear, though, did nothing for it (like it had when she was younger, against Dudley and his gang). She wished this man could anger her or something. Or push her buttons. Though she knew that what really aggravated her or really riled her up were usually her parents being spoken of badly and Wesley.

There was no way in hell she would let this guy kiss her, or enjoy or anticipate it.

Still, maybe she could somehow get this guy to talk about her parents someway. But he didn't know about them or anything about them. How could she get him to start talking?

"So…you have mummy issues or something? Made you have something against women?" Harry asked with a scowl.

"Nyet! I love my mamma and I love women. Women are wonderful, beautiful things. And I respect my mamma a great deal. Here I am in America, land of opportunity! She would be pleased I am taking advantage of everything that is being offered –or not offered –to me."

Bloody hell, there went that idea.

"Then why are you doing this? If you like women so much, why would you do this to us?" Because she had a feeling she wasn't the first or going to be the last to be taken and trussed up like she was.

"Please, Harry –may I call you Harry? Anyway, it is just business. Nothing personal, I assure you. Myself and my employers…we are in charge of trafficking around people. Not just women either. And you, you were sold to us and so you become merchandise. But you know…you're very pretty and I like you. I could make things easier on you, if you'd let me," he ended suggestively.

Harry's scowl deepened. "No thanks, I'm taken."

He laughed loudly. "Trust me, Harry, you are not. Not anymore. And well, it's not really up to you anymore. I want to keep you, so…I keep you!"

Crazed up, lunatic! Like hell she would let him.

Just then a phone rang and she tensed up. She listened as her captor answered it.

"Vladimir! Wait, you are coming here? Well…no, I'm not busy. I am feeling better after stupid attack from Man in Black. Yes, yes…I know, I should have stayed in hospital longer. I am fine though."

Harry listened intently, biting her lip though, when the Man in Black was mentioned. But then the man switched to Russian and she couldn't follow the conversation anymore. However, soon the man hung up and then walked closer to her. She tensed up.

"Stay here and keep quiet. If Vladimir hears you, he will make me give you over and you will be trafficked around, do you understand? Better stay with me than that, da? Be good and quiet," he stroked her hair and she shivered.

As he walked away, she contemplated her options. She was practically blind, phoneless, wandless, and clueless of her situation, while being tied up. She could get this Vladimir's attention, but she didn't want to be part of the trafficking trade. But if she stayed here, she would be this man's slave.

Why did her luck have to be so crappy sometimes?

* * *

Vladimir nodded, listening to Anatoly relate his strange evening with Fisk's second in command and some girl. He was intrigued about this strange girl who they knew nothing of, but he was also glad that Anatoly hadn't angered Fisk (too much). He had a bad feeling that things could have gone very wrong for his brother without the intervention of that girl.

But he learned several things. Fisk had a woman now –what that would mean for them all, he wasn't sure of yet. But he also knew that there was a new player on the board, a girl that had close ties to Fisk, and to Fisk's second in command. On that note (and of those close ties), Fisk wasn't the only one with a woman. Wesley did as well, and it was the very same girl that seemed to be the new player. He also, according to Anatoly, might be fun to drag out on a night.

Funny –they had just mocked and insulted the man not too long ago, and here Anatoly was making plans on going out drinking or something.

"You can stay here if you want," Vladimir told Anatoly. "I am going to just check on Semyon, maybe see if he has any clues as to who cleaned up and help heal the Man in the Mask after the ambush failed to stop him and allowed him to go after Semyon to find out about that boy."

"I'll come with you," Anatoly shrugged. "I will become bored here otherwise."

Vladimir nodded and he and his brother got out of the car and headed to Semyon's apartment, where he knocked and waited for his subordinate to open the door. When Semyon did, he looked strained, though it could be on account of the injuries he was still healing from after his encounter with the Man in the Mask.

"Vladimir, Anatoly, come in," he opened his door wider and the brothers entered the small apartment. "Can I get you something? Something to eat or drink?"

"No, it's okay," Anatoly answered in boredom. "We are hoping to get news from you."

"Anything on Masked Man?" Vladimir got to the point.

Semyon grimaced. "Nyet, I –"

"Anatoly? Anatoly, is that you?" they heard a female's voice scream out.

Vladimir was confused, but Anatoly gained a strange look to his face. While Anatoly headed to the direction of the voice, Vladimir pushed aside his confusion of the female and why she'd called out to Anatoly, and became angry.

"You trying to cheat us, Semyon?" Vladimir growled, coming towards Semyon angrily.

Semyon held up his hands. "No! It's not like that at all. The money I paid for the girl, I made sure to put some aside to pay you back. I just thought to keep her, even if for a little bit –and I was going to tell you!"

Just then, Anatoly stormed out, while uncharacteristically gently holding the girl in question. She _was_ pretty, with her emerald eyes, raven hair, and alabaster skin. He could see why Semyon was tempted by her.

"Idiot," Anatoly snapped at Semyon, causing Vladimir to stare at his brother in surprise. Usually Vladimir was the hot-headed one, quick to anger, while playing it cool otherwise. Anatoly was the playful, passionate brother, who hardly got angry. "Do you know who this girl is?"

Vladimir didn't and neither did Semyon.

"This is a friend of Fisk," Anatoly glared at Semyon. "She is his second in command's woman too."

Ah, the mysterious girl Anatoly had just been telling him about. With a new perception, he looked over the girl again (with renewed appreciation and even more admiration), while Semyon gazed at his brother in horror.

"H-he'll kill me," Semyon swallowed heavily.

"Maybe we can blame the family and say you'd made a mistake," Vladimir was trying to calculate the odds, but it wasn't good. In fact, even he and Anatoly might get caught up in the blame.

"You know what he's capable of," Semyon snarled, furious now. "And we know all about his second in command. James Wesley, the orchestrator and Shadow King of this organization. If Fisk is the absolute King of this empire, Mr. Wesley is easily the puppeteer of us all. He won't forget this and he won't let me get away with it."

Sad to say, Semyon was right. Despite he and his brother mocking him and calling him Fisk's lapdog, Wesley had a hand in everything –they knew the variety and large range of things that man had to keep track of and take care of, and it wasn't an easy job. And yet he easily and thanklessly ran the organization and did what needed to be done, with or without Fisk in the picture.

For that loyalty and dedication, Fisk would also have no qualms backing him up if he wished to pursue Semyon and make the man pay for his perceived crime against him. And that was withstanding the fact that apparently Fisk was also attached to the girl.

"I'm not letting myself die," Semyon said in a panic, and took the gun from his side out and held it tightly, pointing at them.

Vladimir sneered. Coward. He'd always barely tolerated Semyon, who was like a sniveling rat most times.

"Go then," Anatoly laughed mockingly. "Run with your tail between your legs. They'll find you, Semyon. And you'll wish you were dead then."

"I'm not leaving without the girl," Semyon bared his teeth. "She'll be my insurance."

Anatoly tightened his grip around the quiet girl, who looked lost. "Think again."

Semyon hesitated and Vladimir got ready to tackle him, when Semyon's gaze hardened and he shot at Anatoly, who let go of the girl in pain. Vladimir rushed him, but Semyon darted away, grabbing the girl and charging out the door while Vladimir crashed into a table and knocked over a lamp. Cursing, he got up from the floor and checked on his brother quickly, who was thankfully only shot in the shoulder, and then ran out to follow. Semyon should be slowed down by the girl, so hopefully he could catch up.

But, as he finally reached outside, he just managed to glimpse Semyon starting a car and then peeling away from the curve in a rush.

"Shit!"

He was going to have to call Wesley and inform him what had happened, or else he had a feeling he and his brother would be in as much trouble.

* * *

Needless to say, Peter Parker wasn't what Wesley had been expecting.

When he arrived with Foggy and Matt, as soon as he walked up to the door, he noticed the ordinary but rather warm home, even from the outside. It was the kind of home he knew he wanted to have with Harry. And coming up to the door and knocking, the kid on the other side was someone he realized would be more of someone Harry (and oddly he) would mother.

Sweet (sickeningly so sometimes), goofy, and with a cheesy sense of humor, Peter Parker would definitely be a good friend to Harry, and someone who would definitely be just as mothered by her too.

"I'm glad she made a friend of you," Wesley cut into the kid's excited diatribe about their meeting and time together. "You said you'd walked her almost home, before you split ways to head to your own home?"

"Yeah, since she lives further away from where I live here, we split up about…a block from here maybe?" Peter thought about it.

"Was anything unusual on the way?" Matt interrupted.

Peter hesitated. "I-I'm not sure…I didn't see anything particularly wrong. But sometimes…sometimes I get like a _gut_ feeling, you know? And usually that feeling's right. After I left her, it bothered me so I went back to see if I could catch up to her, maybe just make sure she got home safely, but when I came back to that spot, she was gone."

"Can you lead us back to the exact spot?" Foggy asked him, serious face on now and no longer playful like he usually was.

"Yeah, I'm sure I could," Peter said confidently.

Wesley hoped he better damn could, because he was beyond out of his mind with worry by then.

They drove to where Peter directed them, and Wesley continued to call her. Windows down, it was by chance that all of them heard the tune, and Wesley parked near the spot, hurriedly darting out of the car and looking around the area. He dropped to his knees as he grasped the wand and phone (still stuck to its holder) hidden by some shrubbery.

"Is that…" Foggy trailed off.

"It's her phone," Wesley hissed out, already feeling fury build up and red clouding his vision.

Matt gestured Foggy to take Peter back to the car, before coming closer to Wesley He felt the blind man place a steady hand on his shoulder, but he was getting closer and closer to not thinking straight.

"Wesley," Matt spoke firmly. "Whatever you're thinking, whatever you're planning…don't."

"You don't know what I'm thinking or planning," Wesley snapped, turning to glare at him. "I'm going to get her back!"

"I know you are and you will. Just don't cross any lines you know you shouldn't."

Wesley looked sharply at Matt, but at the moment he realized he didn't care. "I'll do what I need to do to make sure Harry is back safe."

"You can't afford to be complicit in anything. _She_ can't afford for you to be complicit in anything," Matt was stern.

"I've never been found accountable for anything," Wesley's lip curled. "I never have and never will."

"You know what? I'm pretty sure that's all true," Matt said dryly. "But think of Harry. Does she want you to do this?"

He gritted his teeth, but even if she'd let it go, she wouldn't want him to do anything in the first place. And fuck if that didn't make him want to pull at his hair.

"Then what do I do?"

"We need to find the Dursleys," Matt said decisively. "Find out what they'd planned, where she is. If you find them and do something against them, Wesley, we won't be able to find her."

Wesley knew that and it grated on him, when he wanted nothing more than to find those sorry bastards and make them pay.

"Find. We find them first."

And may they hope whatever deity there was have mercy on them, because he wouldn't when he got his hands on them.

Started 1/10/16 – Completed 1/11/16

 **A/n: Well, someone's going to get their ass kicked XD It's like the dysfunctional Scooby gang up in here XD Lol, I hope everyone's all anxious now. Please remember to review!**

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 **Quick Points:**

1\. Pandora Box Forum: Sign up! I post up challenges here, so if you're interested in answering one or seeing them, just subscribe! The link to it is at the end of my profile.

2\. Yule Ball Interference: A Christmas/Yule one-shot for Wesley/Harry :D Please check it out and review!

3\. : I'm hopefully going to publish my original book soon, and on the verge of finishing it now. It would be nice, if anyone could be a patron!

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Anon Reviews:

1\. Guest 1: Sorry I did leave it there last time! But here's an update!

2\. Guest 2: Lol, pervy!Dumbledore! Nice one. And ha! I like that idea –the picture!Wesley/Harry getting all frisky XD That's perfect. Thanks for reading!

3\. Dani: Thanks for enjoying!


	27. The Devil's Come to Call

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Devil's Come to Call_

Wilson Fisk was not a man to be trifled with. He wanted what was the best for his city, no matter what methods he would have to employ. And the same went for the few people he cared about: the woman that had captured his heart, Vanessa, his mother, and his loyal and dedicated second in command and also best friend –Wesley.

And then there was Harry.

She, very quickly, had become a dear friend. If not for her, his oldest and dearest friend would be alone and still lonely, focused on nothing but work and desiring nothing for himself. If not for her, Wilson would not have met the love of his life (for surely, though he'd just met her, he already knew how important Vanessa was to himself). And if not for her, Wilson would be a fray of nerves and anger all the time, and his life and plans would surely fall into a downward spiral because of some irrationality the red haze that used to haunt him would cause.

He could feel the red haze creeping in now.

The Russian brothers stared uneasily at him, but he just wanted to take them in hand and throw them across the room like ragdolls. Instead, he searched out the bag of lemon drops bequeathed to him by Harry and took two. He was sure he needed the extra dose.

"You are telling me…that one of your men…has taken Harry. A dear friend of mine. And has now run off somewhere with her," he said flatly.

They winced, but nodded in unison.

It was bad enough to have found out that her wretched family had sold her to the Russians. But now one of them had gone rogue and taken off with her.

Wilson stood up suddenly, causing the brothers to flinch, more so at the darkening look on his face as he loomed over them.

"Find him. Find him and get her back," Wilson ordered. "And she had better be alive and unharmed!"

"Y-yes, sir," Vladimir spoke quickly and dragged his brother out of the room.

Heaving deep breaths, the laced lemon drops took hold again and he began to feel calmer, though the rage simmered dully in the back of his mind. If he had come to find a single hair on her head was harmed, he would make Semyon and her family pay very dearly for what they had done. Wilson would make sure of it.

Not that he doubted Wesley wouldn't of either, but perhaps it was best his second in command didn't get his hands dirty in regards to this. A precaution for the man to save face against any who would doubt or question his relationship with Harry, or threaten it in any way…

Like Wilson would let that happen either.

* * *

Wesley's narrowed eyes were quite frankly scary, Foggy decided. Especially when the glare was aimed at you.

Like it was currently aimed at him and Matt.

"They somehow made it overseas," Matt murmured, seemingly unphased. How could he? What with the unholy stare coming from the man refusing to look away from them. Even if Matt was blind, Foggy thought that he'd still be able to feel that stare. "I found out that much. Extradition is a possible avenue, but it'll –"

"Take too long," Wesley snapped out.

"It'll take too long," Matt nodded in acknowledgement.

"Do you _really_ have shady contacts?" Foggy blurted out and the other two stared at him.

"Foggy," Matt frowned, but Wesley straightened.

"I might have," he said cagily, looking at them warily.

Foggy shrugged, "Reach out to them." But then he gave a bland look to Wesley. "But you _have_ to make sure to bring them here to the US. And in front of the police authorities, so they can be brought to justice. Proper justice."

Wesley gave him a narrowed, scrutinizing look, and Foggy tried not to fidget from it.

"If she is harmed in any way –" Wesley practically snarled.

"We'll look the other way," Matt surprisingly said, making Foggy glance at him in veiled shock.

"Er, right," he agreed hesitatingly.

Man, Matt could be scary.

* * *

Harry was bloody pissed. She was tied up, her wand was missing, her glasses were missing and she was bloody blind, and-and she was just bloody pissed!

"Don't worry," Semyon told her, in the midst of flying the plane. "We will be there soon. Then there really will be no worry."

"Will you let me go when we get there?" Harry asked warily. "You'll be free to disappear off to somewhere. You won't need me anymore."

He laughed. "But you will be alone! Alone in a foreign country, not able to communicate or find way back home. Stick with me! I will make sure you are taken cared of."

Harry stayed quiet, choosing to just fume to herself. She had to get out of there –

She had that moleskin purse around her neck. Her holly wand was still in there. And if the phone case still attached to her (she had no idea how, but it was back on her…) did what it was supposed to, sooner or later, her phone will just magic itself back to her too.

Though her hands were tied behind her, if she could just…

She stretched out her fingers and managed to lightly touch the ropes.

"Incendio," she muttered, trying to focus on not burning herself and also on making a small flame. Well, for a wandless spell, it was making it much harder on her.

"I'll put this on auto," she heard Semyon say, making her panic. She then lost focus, causing the small flame to become out of control and latch onto the chair she was in and burn her wrists as well.

"What happened?" Semyon's eyes bulged and he also began to panic. "There are no fire extinguishers here!"

Harry shrieked, both in pain and disbelief. He came towards her and she kicked out at him with her tied up feet. He said something in Russian, probably a curse word by the sound of him, and backed off and away from her. He glanced at the exit.

"I am sorry. There is only one parachute anyway. I guess this is goodbye."

Harry struggled away from the spreading fire.

"Wait! You can't just –" but he strapped on the parachute and looked at her sadly. He shook his head.

Opening up the exit, heavy wind entered the plane and Semyon jumped out.

"Bloody hell! This can't be happening! You bastard!"

She continued to work on the ropes, finally managing to get rid of them. She found her holly wand and got rid of the ropes around her ankles, before turning it on the fire. Though she managed to extinguish it, the plane was too far gone and heading to crash land on the water.

She started to freak out, not sure what to do or what spell to use. Then she remembered that Semyon had used a parachute. She didn't need his! She can transfigure her own, damn it!

She found an object and did so. Then she strapped it on and made her way to the exit, hesitating before jumping out of it.

Harry's scream got lost in her throat, but she managed to activate the parachute. She started to float gently towards the ocean water before landing and shrieking at the icy touch of the water. Shivering, she took her parachute and transfigured it into a small lifeboat. She trembled as she climbed onto it, and caught her breath before she used a spell to dry off.

"What was that spell Hagrid used on that boat again?"

* * *

Wesley's mood hadn't improved by the time he went to meet his boss. In fact, it had probably worsened. It wasn't helping that he seemed to be imagining the worse scenarios the more time passed.

As he entered the building, he noted it was oddly quiet. Though he should be worried, instead his anger was continuing to take hold. He wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings because all he could hear was the blood pounding in his head, see the red haze across his vision, and feel the heat from the fury radiating from his heated skin.

"Wesley," he heard his employer's voice and he looked up in shock, having not noticed how he'd directed his angry glare to the ground as he strode down the hallway.

"Wilson," he greeted uncertainly, only just cooling off (and barely at that).

"There is…some development about Harry," Wilson hesitantly started out and Wesley had to take a deep breath. "The Russians are involved."

Wesley's anger shot up again and he _knew_ he was going to kill Anatoly and Vladimir the next time he saw them.

"The brothers have been dealt with," Wilson said, as if he'd read Wesley's mind. "In fact, they were the ones who informed me of this development when they were unable to contact you. Don't worry, I didn't kill them," he twitched slightly.

Wesley almost frowned, wishing he had. But he took that back, especially since he knew that Harry had taken a liking to Anatoly and right now he wasn't thinking straight.

Wilson continued. "They told me that one of their men –Semyon," Wesley hated that idiot, more so now that he knew he was involved in this, "had incidentally been contacted by Harry's family. They were in a hurry to leave here and wanted to get rid of Harry. He'd taken her on her way back to her house after school." And then his boss told him how Anatoly and Vladimir had gone to Semyon's apartment, Anatoly recognizing Harry's voice, and then the subsequent confrontation after that.

Now he definitely hated Semyon and wanted the little bastard deader than dead.

"Right now, the Russians are searching all over for Semyon and are tracking him down as we speak," Wilson told him, but Wesley didn't think it was enough. He thought that it was taking too long. He just wanted to get out there, do everything he could to find her –she didn't even have her pho –

His pockets felt light. Stuffing his hand into both of them, the holder and the phone were gone. He felt himself relaxed. Wilson noted that.

"Wesley?"

"She should be contacting us soon," Wesley replied calmly, confusing Wilson. "Her phone is a magical version, if you will. Both phone holder and her phone had been in my pockets, and now they're not there anymore. They're probably with Harry now. It's all a matter of her getting away from Semyon and calling us."

Wilson looked much more relieved. "I'm still not sure or understanding of this magic, but as long as it means that she'll be safer and back with us soon, then all we can do is hope, right?"

"Right," he replied back firmly. "In the meantime, we will need to continue looking for her family as well. I was…advised by my attorneys not to do anything hasty," he twitched, torn between an exasperated smile or being annoyed. At Wilson's unsure look, Wesley huffed. "Apparently they're under the impression that it would be in my best interest to not be rash and murder the lot of Harry's family, not only so they could be brought to proper justice, but also because they're quite sure Harry wouldn't want me to."

At Wilson's look, Wesley cleared his throat in embarrassment. "Not in so many words of course…" he muttered. Wesley smirked in satisfaction then. "They did say that they'd look the other way if she was harmed." Not that he wanted her harmed, but it was a pleasing thought that he could get his hands on those who'd dared to try hurt her.

It also kind of amused him since it was Matt Murdock who'd said that, and he was pretty damn sure the guy had a straight as an arrow moral compass.

Wilson coughed. "I…see. Well then, we should get to work."

Wesley nodded sharply. It was back to business and he was going to make Harry's family and Semyon pay for this.

He just wished he didn't have to wait for her to call.

* * *

She'd been so tired, she'd drifted off to sleep. When she woke up, she found herself nearer to land. For though land was definitely way too far off, she could at least see it. Feeling a little replenished, if still tired a little, and definitely very hungry and thirsty, she redid the spell to move the lifeboat the last few miles to the land she could see in the distance. Once she reached land, she stumbled off the boat and looked around. Seeing no one nearby, she transfigured the boat into a coat and covered herself with it, feeling it ward off the cold a little. She cast a warming spell as well and started to feel a little better.

Walking further along, she decided that her clothes were too damp and her shoes were worthless in the cold and snowy environment. Finding a hidden place, she took off the coat and then used her wand to dry her clothes off. Dudley's clothes were baggy and warm, if ragged and old. It should work in that weather for now. Her shoes though…She transfigured her trainers into warm boots and then put the coat back on. She left there and began searching for civilization.

It took a long while and a lot of walking, but once she saw a city, she hurried up a little and then stopped short. Hearing the chatter of voices with rough accents and the signs in the foreign language, she'd sort of recognized it all because of Anatoly and Semyon.

"Oh Merlin, don't tell me I'm in Russia!"

Started 1/25/16 – Completed 10/11/16

 **A/n: ACK! I'm so sorry I've been gone for so long, but I'd gotten a job assignment with an autistic child and it was a lot of work and stress to deal with, and try to write at the same time. I had trouble writing out Harry's escape scene, even though I knew what I wanted to have in there generally, and then life got in the way, and then other stories got in the way, and urk! I hope there are still people interested and reading. Please remember to be kind and leave a review!**

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 **Quick Points:**

1\. **Pandora Pairings Forum** : Rare pair forum I created that has lots of challenges, so check it and subscribe please!

2\. **Reviews** : I'll try my best to go over them and answer (and probably work on them over the weekend), but if not, please forgive me!

3\. **The Regions Legends** : If you like Pokémon, this is my collab account with a few friends of mine. Please check it out and fav, alert, and review! I'm personally in charge of **"The Book of Ash"** , **"The Book of Eve"** , **"The Book of Mal"** , and **"Kitty Claws."**


	28. From Russia With Love

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Twenty-Eight: From Russia With Love_

"Well, well, what do we haff here?"

"Three little piggies, all ready to be slaughtered, maybe yeah?"

If Anatoly was going to lie and say he was comfortable and said these kind of murderous and messed up things all the time, then yes it was going to be a lie. He trafficked people, mostly women. He knew that wasn't something to be proud of. But he also, along with his brother, was all business about it and they weren't the type to taunt their victims in this way. They took them, mostly ignored them and their pleas, and did what they were supposed to. Taunt enemies and people they didn't like, maybe. But victims? _Nyet_. They weren't those type of traffickers.

But he did not like these people. He did not like them even before he'd met them. Meeting them now? He hated their guts and wished that he'd trafficked them the hell out of New York the moment they'd stepped foot.

The fact that they were Harry's family (and that they'd sold her out to the likes of Anatoly's people) only meant that they were despicable and that he wished he could do more to them than simply bring them back to New York to deal justice.

As it was, they'd found them in England, having lunch in London with another fat piece of lard that looked a lot like a female Vernon Dursley. It didn't take a lot to lure them (even the female Vernon) and they were all easily taken. They took this unknown woman too, because she was clearly related to them and Anatoly was feeling unusually vindictive.

"You are dead, _da_?" he said with bared teeth. "You are not living anymore. You'll see how it is."

They were miserable pieces of dog shit and he would be glad to never see them again. Preferably never see them alive again.

He gestured for some of the others to grab the family, with Vladimir watching him closely.

"You are not yourself, brother," Vladimir noted. "You are angry. I'm the angry one."

"They're pieces of scum," Anatoly spat out. "I would wish them gone."

Vladimir hmmed. "It's the girl, _da_?"

Anatoly quieted, settling at the mention of her. "…Harry became a very good friend quickly. Now she is gone. And she is…gone _because_ of us. Or what we do. It unsettles me and makes me unhappy."

Vladimir sighed and reached over, fondly ruffling his brother's hair. "You were always the nice one. She is special then, this Harry?"

Anatoly was the one feeling fond then, smiling slightly. "She is," he affirmed confidently.

"Then don't worry, Anatoly. She will come back. She will not be gone long."

He surely hoped so. In the meantime though, he and his brother would take care of bringing her scum family back to the States.

* * *

Wesley yawned, blearily blinking as he traipsed through his apartment. He tiredly rubbed at his eyes and went about making himself a pot of coffee.

The place was too quiet. It felt too _empty_. Without Harry, who had begun infusing it with life and making the place feel homey with just her presence, the apartment was nothing but just a place to sleep and momentarily be in when needed.

Wesley had kept himself busy in her absence, not wanting to linger in one place. He worked himself hard, for Wilson and in the search for Harry and the Dursley's. It was only just recently that the Russian brothers had found Harry's family (plus one) and were in the process of bringing them over. However, Harry had still yet to call and that made him start being anxious again.

He missed her. He missed her horribly. Having spent so much time with Harry since meeting her, he now felt incredibly lonely and even felt himself grow melancholy one too many times when he wasn't bustling about.

He had thought about going house-hunting without her, wanting to find a house that could be ready for her to move into with him once she was found. However, the more he thought on it, the more he recoiled from doing so. Finding a house –a _home_ –for the two of them (especially their first home) was something that should be done with the both of them. Without her, it just didn't feel right. Therefore, he decided against so and made the decision to wait.

Checking his coffeemaker, he poured himself a cup and sat at his couch. He then went about moving some of Harry's school things, and was about to relax back into the couch when he saw a piece of paper jutting out from underneath one of the textbooks. He would have normally left it alone, had he not caught a glimpse of two words that had peeked out from it.

 _Masked Man_

He hesitantly grabbed it and blinked several times. It was a grocery list. A grocery list Harry had scribbled down for her to go shopping for the Man in the Mask. At the top read: "Shop for Masked Man" (which is where he saw the two words that had caught his attention), and a small notation Harry had scribbled underneath saying "He can't take care of himself."

Wesley had to choke back some unexpected laughter at that. It figured his sweet Harry would worry about some stranger and think about buying him groceries. It was as cute as it was exasperating. Still…

There, written as if to remind her, was the man's address. It was a good opportunity to find and 'visit' the Masked Man and get him out of the way…He looked down at the grocery list and sighed to himself.

When he would be standing in front of the mysterious Masked Man's apartment an hour and a half later, with two bags of groceries in hand, he would blame Harry. He really would.

So he twitched and forced himself to knock, ignoring the gun strapped to his side. But on the other side of the door, he didn't expect to see one very blind and unexpected person by the name of Matt Murdock. He was left gaping a little, before snapping his jaw closed.

" _You_ …" Well, he knew there was something off about the blind lawyer. The man tensed and got ready to attack, when Wesley shoved the groceries into the man's chest, forcing Matt to catch and grab hold of the bags instead. "Harry, not knowing who you are I'll remind you, wanted to buy groceries for the poor Masked Man Who Apparently Can't Take Care of Himself Properly. Here, because I'm a proper partner… _boyfriend_."

Matt was the one gaping then, while Wesley pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know what, I still need you. And you're bloody useful. So get the case against the Dursleys done with, help Harry out, and I'm going to forget about this meeting and just re-meet you properly. You know, like in an abandoned warehouse where I can shoot you properly without being reminded you're technically mine and my girlfriend's lawyer."

Matt blinked at him.

Wesley grumbled, "I still have to go shopping myself too. I'm out of food…If Harry cooks again, I won't have anything for her…" He turned sharply on his heel. "Goodbye, Matt. Please try not to get too beat up. Harry's not here to heal you and you should be busy and focused on her case anyway."

"H-hey, I am focused!" Matt blurted out from behind him. "I'll have you know I can multi-task quite well! But I am totally more focused on Harry's case right now!"

"Good!" Wesley shouted childishly as he rounded the corner and at last minute turned back to Matt. "I'll see you tonight!"

"Yeah, tonight!"

"Don't get killed!"

"I _can_ take care of myself!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Wesley shook his head, wondering since when had he thought resorting to bickering like a child would be better than taking out his gun and shooting at the other. You know what…He huffed, took out his gun and went back around the corner and shot at the door.

"Hey!" Matt shouted from the other side.

"That's for being a liar and keeping secrets!" Ah, he might be a tad hypocritical about that though. Oh well.

Wesley huffed again and headed back down the stairs. He had his own grocery shopping to do, now that he wasn't saddled with the "Masked Man's" health.

Once he was at the grocery store, he was quick to go around and pack his cart. He had stocked up on various fruits, vegetables and meat, before going over the store again to find additional things he needed and that Harry might need to cook with. He was walking with the cart when he saw the tea section and stared at it. A smile, just a tinge sad (but more fond), twitched at his lips. Harry and her tea, of course. He should buy some, finally, and have some prepared for her use at his apartment.

He chose a few different selections that he thought Harry might like to try, as well as her usual Earl Grey (she was _such_ a Brit), and then went to go check out and pay for everything. By the time he had loaded everything into his car, he felt his phone ring to the tune of Harry's favorite Wizarding band and he froze. Shutting the trunk, he nearly threw the cart into the cart section and didn't even look to see if it went and was safely with the other carts as he ducked into his car and took out his phone and answered it.

"Harry?" he asked breathlessly.

"Oh, thank Merlin! Finally!"

* * *

Harry was extremely irritated. She didn't understand a lick of what anyone was saying and couldn't understand any of the signs or papers she was surrounded with. They were all in Cyrillic and everyone was speaking Russian. She had yet to run into someone who could understand English, much less speak it. She had had to buy an English-Russian language book (she was thanking whoever she could that her card apparently still worked there) and had done her best to communicate with people, managing to at least find a place that would let her stay in a room and charged a decent price.

Her phone had appeared last night, but apparently the international teleportation of it had drained its battery badly to the point it was dead, and she was waiting for it to get sufficient charge to call Wesley. She was tempted to call as soon as it was at 10%, but she'd never had a phone before and didn't know how much it would drain the battery if she just called. She didn't want it to just hang up in the middle of a call or something. She couldn't even charge it herself, since she herself was tired and pretty drained from all the magic she'd done to get there.

Harry _had_ been tempted to use the phones in the city, but the phone lines had been unreliable and she hadn't been able to get a call through. Which left her to wait for her phone, and now to further wait until it was charged enough for her to stop worrying about calling Wesley. That led her to just force herself to relax and let it charge overnight, and now she'd woken up to gleefully find it was fully charged.

Calling Wesley, she waited impatiently for him to answer. It had barely rung three times before she'd heard Wesley answer the phone like he'd just gone running.

"Where are you?" he practically demanded in a high-strung voice, and she felt a little guilty she'd worried him so much. She couldn't wait to see him again.

"Um…Russia? I think?"

"You think?" he asked in amusement, voice starting to sound like he was finally calming and was relaxing into their usual content and comforting interactions.

"I'm sure. The people around here sound like Anatoly and, uh, that Semyon guy." She made a quick discontented noise. Equally, she heard Wesley growl angrily at the other side, and could guess he'd found out about him already. "I don't speak Russian. I don't know how to talk to anyone or communicate anything, and it's really cold and I think the heater's broken," she said miserably. "I wish I knew that translator spell. Do you think you could contact Hermione for me and ask her where that spell in my books is? Or ask her if she knows it. She probably knows it."

"I could translate for you," Wesley said, back to being amused.

"…You could?"

He made a short laugh. "Yes. I speak Japanese, Chinese, Spanish, and a few other languages, including Russian."

"Huh," Harry said. "Well, that's useful."

"I'll still get that spell though. You'll probably need it in the future and probably still now, since it'll take a while for us to reach you and you'll be on your own a little longer. But at least let me find out where you are and fix that broken heater problem of yours," he ended teasingly.

"Useful, very useful," she grinned.

"You're welcome," he replied smugly.

She kept her phone on and put it on speaker, leaving her room and finding the owner of the inn she was staying at. Quickly, Wesley started speaking Russian and Harry was amazed at how fluid he sounded. He had even gained an accent that made it sound like he was a natural speaker.

He and the owner spoke and then the owner gave Harry a soothing smile and then nodded at her, before leaving her behind and going into a side door.

"Harry?" she heard Wesley.

She put the phone back to normal and then to her ear. "Yeah?"

"He said that he'll get your heater fixed right away and in the meantime will send up a few extra blankets for you to use. He also said you're apparently in Murmansk –if you go further into the city, there should be a railway. Take another day or two at that inn to bring up your strength and then take it to St. Petersburg and where you can take another train to Moscow; there's an airport there too, but it will only take you to those two cities or to Norway, and I'm not sure you want to be in a plane so soon. Moscow and St. Petersburg should have a lot more English speakers as well, so don't be worried. There are airports in Moscow and St. Petersburg, but the one in St. Petersburg doesn't have international flight to the US. Moscow does though, but I'd prefer not to have you go on a public transport and for you to keep safe until I get to you."

She sighed. "If I don't get antsy. I guess I can head to Moscow and stay there for a bit. Don't take too long?"

"I promise."

She smiled a little at that. "Okay, see you soon, I hope."

"Of course."

She hung up and already missed hearing his voice. She missed him.

Harry consoled herself with the fact that she was going to see him soon enough.

* * *

Wesley drove home to his apartment very much relieved. Hearing her voice, being able to talk to her…he hadn't known how much he needed it until it had actually happened.

Bringing everything up to his apartment, he put his groceries away and then went to his room to search for Harry's trunk. Opening it, he searched for that magic mirror Harry had told him about and tried to remember what he needed to say to activate it.

"Hermione," he pronounced slowly, remembering how Harry said the girl's unusual name. He waited a moment and then there was Harry's friend being reflected on the mirror. She looked surprised to see him. "Hi," he said unsurely. "Harry's in a spot of trouble –"

The girl shook her head, bushy hair moving with her. She was smiling sardonically. "When is she not? Alright, so what does she need?"

"A translator spell, I believe. She said you would know where to find it in her books or that you might know it."

"I know it," she confirmed quickly. She gave him the spell, showing him how to pronounce it and then listening and giving adjustments as Wesley tried it out. She told him that there were no specific wand movements needed.

"Thank you," she said, surprising him since he'd just been about to thank her. "For taking care of her. She needs it and it's nice to have someone who cares about her and is willing to do whatever he can for her. She needs more people like you by her side."

Wesley gave her a grim smile. "Harry is everything to me. You will find I will do absolutely anything for her."

Hermione echoed his grim smile. "Good."

She cut the connection and Wesley texted Harry the incantation before calling her. Having no answer, he left a voicemail so she could at least hear the spell played back for her and could learn how to say it properly that way.

With that done, he sighed and went through what he had to do next.

But he was interrupted by the knocking on his door, and he stared at it, wondering who the hell was visiting him.

Started 10/27/16 – Completed 11/1/16

 **A/n: Yeah! Looks like they're going to be reunited soon, eh? Finally XD Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and will remember to review. Reviews are a huge source of inspiration for me, and without them I get into a funk and don't feel like writing. So please review!**

* * *

 **Anon reviews:**

1\. Guest 1: Thanks! I'm always unsure if Wilson is coming out alright, so I'm glad to hear it from others.

2\. Lizzy B: Thank you as always! I always appreciate your support!

3\. jas: Yeah! Cheer on!

4\. Dark Yugi: Thanks! I'm glad you think so highly of the story and enjoying it so far!

4\. Guest 2: Oh, awesome! Thanks for thinking it's epic :D

5\. Guest 3: Aw, thanks! I'm glad you love my writing. I do work hard to keep them as in character as I can, even when taking into account changes and whatnot. I also like to follow along the plot, but I do tend to prefer to change it up as much as possible!

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 **Quick Points:**

1\. **Pandora Pairings Forum** : Rare pair forum I created that has lots of challenges, so check it and subscribe please!

2\. **The Regions Legends** : If you like Pokémon, this is my collab account with a few friends of mine. Please check it out and fav, alert, and review! I'm personally in charge of **"The Book of Ash"** , **"The Book of Eve"** , **"The Book of Mal"** , and **"Kitty Claws."**


	29. Running Home to You

Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or Harry Potter.  
Story: Wesley has an odd obsession with Oreos, which leads to meeting Harry. A series of vignettes and drabbles styling their unusual relationship.  
Set pre-series for Daredevil initially, and after fifth year for HP.  
Spoilers: Probably a lot without me even noticing.  
Warnings: Age difference, probably some mentions of crimes and violence (or more than mentions), probably sexual situations later on.

 **An Oreo Crust Crumbling**  
 _Chapter Twenty-Nine: Running Home to You_

Of all the people Wesley expected at his door, Peter Parker was not one of them. But there was the teenager, sheepish and uncertain looking, but also still there in the flesh. His brown hair looked tousled and barely brushed through and his clothes thrown on in a hurry, so Wesley could guess that he had in fact rushed over or something of the like.

"Hi?" Peter said awkwardly, asking more than saying, and giving a just as awkward wave and smile.

"Mr. Parker," Wesley acknowledged, quickly moving away from surprise. "Can I help you with something?"

Peter suddenly wore a determined expression. "I want to help find Harry."

It was oddly adorable, in a very puppyish sort of way, and Wesley was hard-pressed in denying him. But deny him he did.

"Thank you for your offer, and I'm sure Harry would appreciate your loyalty and friendship, but this is being handled. In fact, we've found her and I'll be on my way to her soon."

Peter looked contrite. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do?"

Wesley gave him a genuine smile. "No, it's alright. I'll let her know you were worried about her and she'll contact you when she gets back."

Disappointed, Peter nodded and thanked him before leaving. Even as the teen left, Wesley wore the smile in fondness and shook his head. Harry sure did know how to pick her friends. If nothing else, he knew they were all definitely loyal, which he was very thankful for.

That said, he went to his room and started to pack, hoping he could hurry up and be by Harry's side by evening at the least. His phone ringing distracted him and he immediately answered it, hoping it was Harry. Hearing Wilson's voice instead, he tried not to feel too disappointed.

"Wilson, what can I help you with?" he asked, activating the magical hands free mode as he continued to pack.

"You called before to say that Harry was found?" Wilson's voice was full of relief.

"Yes. She called and we managed to figure out that she's in Russia. Murmansk to be exact. She had trouble communicating, but we've solved that problem. I'll be heading to meet her over in Moscow."

"I see –I'll have the private plane prepared and meet you at the airport."

"Sir –" But Wilson had already hung up on him and Wesley didn't get to get a word in edgewise. He stared at his phone.

"Well…that was informative," he said dryly and rolled his eyes.

He was still a bit askance at his boss' quick talk and sudden and implied self-invitation to go pick up Harry, but Wilson wasn't going to be talked down anyhow. He shrugged. At least he didn't have to get the personal plane ready himself.

Wesley finished up his packing and grabbed his luggage, setting it on the ground and then rolling it out of his apartment, locking up behind him as he got ready for an extended leave.

Getting into his car, he made sure his luggage was secure in the back before driving out of the parking garage and then heading to the airport, feeling restless and his anxiety building. He was looking forward to seeing Harry, but he still worried about her state and if she was okay. There was also that a lot of things could have happened between now and the last time he'd talked to her.

It seemed like no time had passed until he was at the airport and then he was heading to where Wilson's private plane was, blinking as he saw not only Wilson there but Vanessa as well. She waved enthusiastically at him and he assumed that Wilson had somehow managed to fill her in on things, or as much as he could.

"Hello, Wesley! We're all set and ready to go, if you are."

Wilson gave him a small smile and Wesley just shook his head and smiled back.

"I'm good. Let's just get on and head to Harry then," Wesley said, feeling much better about things.

"Yeah! I'm ready to go!"

Wesley stopped short and turned around. Lo and behold, there was Foggy Nelson happily marching towards him, with Matt Murdock patiently following at his own pace.

"I informed them of Harry being found and your current plans," Wilson withheld a sigh. "They invited themselves along."

Wesley gave him an amused look. "Yes. Sounds like someone else I know."

Vanessa stifled a laugh as Wilson's cheeks pinked slightly.

"Since we're _all_ here," Wesley said sarcastically, giving a look towards the whole group. "I suppose we're ready to leave?"

A chorus of agreements sounded and then they started boarding the plane. Wesley hung back, subtly pulling Matt behind.

"You are so going to talk to Harry about this whole Masked Man thing," he muttered to him.

Matt coughed and rubbed the back of his head. "I actually _was_ planning to. Just after the trial. But I guess now's a good time too…"

"Good, good. Just, um, don't tell her about the shooting thing," Wesley said sheepishly. "She'd probably lecture me and then give me the silent treatment."

Matt gave him an amused smile as they began to board the plane after the others. "I thought you were going to forget said incident and then re-meet me 'in an abandon warehouse' where you could shoot at me properly."

"She's too fond of you and Foggy –I doubt she'd allow it."

" _We_ also need to talk. About you. And your business. And your boss," Matt muttered, blind eyes somehow able to seek out Wilson.

Wesley frowned deeply, casting a worried look towards Wilson's back. "We'll talk. No guarantees it'll be fruitful."

Matt snorted. "If our first meeting is any indication, I can already picture it."

"I can be a stubborn and unhelpful bastard most times," Wesley smiled mock-sweetly, though it was wasted on the blind man.

"Really? I wouldn't think so after you so graciously got me groceries," Matt laughed lightly and left him behind to sit next to Foggy.

Wesley twitched and headed towards his own seat, before he ended up strangling the blind lawyer.

* * *

Harry smiled and said her goodbyes to the kind inn owner, and then she made her way to the train station. From there, she bought her ticket to Moscow and then went onto the train, where she looked for an available empty compartment. Glad to find one quickly enough, she entered it and settled in as much as she could, before she locked the compartment and added an extra magical lock for good measure. After that, she tiredly plopped onto a seat and closed her eyes.

"I think I'll take a nice, lovely nap," she grumbled, trying to relax on the seat.

And well, she managed a fitful nap that was plagued by her waking up several times. Nightmares were hounding her again –she'd spent so much time in Wesley's company and had slept with him at his home in recent nights that the nightmares had gone and left her alone. Now, sleeping alone in a strange place and after all that had happened with Semyon, she kept seeing Cedric fall to the ground in a flash of green light, or she was reaching out and trying to grasp onto Sirius, who kept falling backwards into the Veil. There were also other traumatic experiences in her life that kept popping up, and she couldn't get rid of the images any more than had she been able to in the past (less so even). She missed Wesley.

With him, she had peace of mind and comfort and happiness and…love…

Harry sighed and fished out her phone from the pocket of the new warm jacket she'd bought, biting her lip before she ended up sending a quick text to Wesley. To her surprise and pleasure, she was immediately answered.

 _You okay? Are you upset?_

She smiled to herself. She'd only asked him if he was coming soon, but somehow he'd sensed her anxiety and troubled state. She didn't know how he'd guessed at it from all the way where he was and without seeing her, but she appreciated that ability of his.

 _Nightmares. Miss you._

 _I miss you too. I'll be there soo_

Harry blinked, tilting her head at the cut off text. Well, he'd probably sent it off in a hurry and hadn't noticed the incomplete text –

 _Hi! How are you, Harry? Totes glad u r ok :D :D :D_

She stared and scrunched up her eyebrows. What in the world? That totally didn't sound like Wesley at all, and she was kind of bewildered at the triple smiley faces at the end, as well as the clipped, normal text language being used. Wesley hated clipping his letters in the normal way that texts ended up being typed out by most people, so he did his best not to under normal circumstances.

 _Apologies, Harry. Foggy n I have merely borrowed ur paramour's phone._

Amused at the new formal tone that still ended up using the informal text format, Harry decided to finally answer back.

 _Foggy? Matt?_

But before she could get a text back, she got a text from Wilson's number.

 _Hello, Harry, it's Vanessa. How are you, dear?_

She gawped and started feeling lost. Before she could reply though, her phone rang and she answered it in a daze.

"Harry?"

"W-Wesley?" she asked hesitantly.

"You're on speaker –"

"Harry! How's it going? It's so great to hear you, you know?" she heard Foggy say.

"Hello, Harry," she heard Matt next. "We're currently accompanying Wesley to your destination."

She noted the fact they called Wesley by his name informally, and she wondered when did they become casual with each other? Also, why were they coming with him anyway?

"Hello, Harry, Wilson and I are also with Wesley! I'm glad you seem okay," Vanessa said then, and she had to take a breather and just wonder why all of them were coming to come get her.

"I'm happy to hear everyone," she said honestly. "Confused _why_ everyone's there, but still happy. Um, yeah, I'm okay –it's really cold over here, but I managed to heat myself up," she said, thinking of her new warm clothes and the heating charm she'd added on. "I guess I'll be seeing everyone at Moscow?"

"Yes," she grinned at hearing Wesley's voice, tinged with annoyance as it was. She could just bet that everyone was getting on his nerves. "We'll be there probably tomorrow morning. You're taking care of yourself, I hope?"

"I am," she reassured him. "Eat an Oreo, Wesley. You sound like you're going to start shooting at everyone," she teased.

"Tempted," he grumbled. A "Hey!" in the background from Foggy's voice had her giggling. "Keep warm and fed, alright? Soon enough, we'll be there and you'll be home."

"Speaking of home," she started shyly. "Have you looked at any?"

There was a pause before Wesley started speaking again. "Actually, no. I was thinking about it, but I thought that it would be better for us to do it together. It's ours after all. It should be fitting we find one together."

Her cheeks warmed and she felt her lips grow wide uncontrollably. She felt indescribably happy.

"Aw, that's so sweet, Wesley," she heard and it wasn't even Vanessa that said that (though she did hear a squeal that she suspected came from her) –it was silly, lovely Foggy. But it was the dumbfounded "You're looking for a house together?" from Wilson that had her giggling.

Wesley sighed, his voice sounding distant as he probably turned away from the phone to answer them.

"Yes, Wilson. I was going to tell you when this whole thing happened and took precedence. Nelson, just…be quiet."

"Come on, man, it's back to 'Nelson'? Don't be a Grinch –Harry, tell your boyfriend not to be a Grinch! And that I know some awesome places you can check out –"

"I'm happy to hear it," Wilson interrupted. "You really should have told me sooner; I could have had a realtor create a portfolio of houses that I could have brought for you two to look over right now –Vanessa, Vanessa! Is there internet on this airplane? Perhaps we can do that now…"

"I swear," Wesley muttered under his breath and she couldn't help giggling again. "That's it, they've heard you and you've heard them. I'm going to take you off of speaker now." He did just that. "Either way, you know… _you're_ home to me," he said softly.

Her cheeks warmed. "You're my home too," she replied shyly. "And I can't wait."

Whatever was in the future, she just wanted him in it and she told him so, before she hung up abruptly in embarrassment. She covered her face and ignored how she was now fully mortified.

"Oh Merlin, that was so sappy."

But she couldn't stop grinning happily anyway.

* * *

"Super awww~" Foggy sing-songed and Wesley looked above him to see Foggy was leaning over the top of the seat next to Wesley's, and smiling widely down at him. "I want to be home to someone! Forget about houses –you guys got each other. That's the best thing ever!"

Matt appeared by them and grabbed Foggy's ear. "I apologize for this nuisance," he said dryly, before pulling on Foggy's ear and dragging him away.

He could swear a vein was throbbing by his temple. He wished he had managed to secure the plane by himself and had headed to where Harry was without being accompanied by everyone. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case and now he was stuck with everyone.

Getting out of his seat, he looked around and saw that Foggy was pouting while Matt was sitting next to him, reading some documents in Braille. Wilson and Vanessa were hunched together and looking at a laptop, and Wesley guessed that they really were looking up houses.

Well, he supposed after this that it was best that he and Harry found somewhere perfect for themselves. A little help wouldn't be bad…

Heading to the front where he could find the snacks, he was just about to start digging around for Oreos in the storage area, when he heard loud thumps. Frowning, he cautiously headed to where he thought he heard the sound coming from, avoiding reaching for his gun. He did, however, grab onto the nearest thing he could use as a weapon, which was the glass coffee pot. Grimacing, he still continued to approach the large storage cabinet, counting down until he reached it and had his hand ready to open it. At zero, he threw it open, but only ended up staring.

He closed the cabinet again, before breathing in deeply and then forcibly out.

Not calmed down at all, he opened it again to glare down at the three people hiding inside.

"What the _hell_ are you three doing in there?!" he yelled, which inevitably brought the others to the area.

Honestly, he didn't know why he was surprised to see the Rankashov brothers and Peter Parker in there, when he should have expected something insane like this to have happened.

"Holy crap, are we smuggling people now?" he heard Foggy yell out.

His headache just grew worse.

Started 6/29/17 – Completed 7/7/16

 **A/n: That wasn't really a cliffhanger, was it? XD Anyway, I had planned on reuniting Wesley and Harry in here, but I decided to hold off because I was already at deadline and at least I had the minimum word limit requirements. But I'm definitely going to try to write a new chapter quicker and update sooner this time (I hope?)! I do at least hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and got silly, sappy feels. Please remember to review!**

 **(Like I know I'm probably going to not have the time or remember to reply back to everyone this chapter, but just rereading the reviews right now is making me gush happily~)**


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